


Lylat: Civil War

by forerunner919



Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: Action, Gen, Next Generation, Science Fiction, dark themes, longfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-10-20 02:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 127,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17613326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forerunner919/pseuds/forerunner919
Summary: For nearly twenty years, Corneria and Venom have been at a standoff, edging on the brink of war, blaming each other for everything that has gone wrong. Amidst all this, the son of a self-exiled legend tries to find his purpose in life, wanting to become great in his own right. However, dark forces lure him towards reigniting a conflict waiting to boil over... (Longfic)





	1. Chapter 1

Fox sat on his Arwing, looking at the pale green skies of Venom in awe. "Hard to believe how far this place has come since we sent the terraforming device here," said Fox quietly. "Just a few years ago this whole place was an uninhabited wasteland. Now look at this – the seas are habitable and the planet is livable again."

Bill Grey wiped off his visor as he looked up to Fox above him. "You said it, bud. I never thought this day would come. But Dash has really transformed this place. One moment he's helping us fight the Anglars, the next moment, he's taking over the whole planet!"

Fox shook his head in disbelief. "I just don't know what he's planning, with him being related to Andross and all."

"I don't think that'll be an issue, Fox. Dash told me he was going to lead Venom towards an agreement with Corneria. They hope to sign a peace treaty soon. Soon Lylat will be united again."

"You're starting to sound like General Pepper there," chuckled Fox. "You've changed quite a bit over the years, too."

"Being a father kinda helps with that, I guess," Bill replied hesitantly.

Fox lowered his head, keeping eye contact away from Bill, with a glum look on his face. "Yeah... I guess... How is your daughter?"

"Great, just great, bud..." said Bill with a huge grin on his face. "She's just learning how to walk now. She's really special, bro. I can't even describe it in words."

"I'll bet," Fox replied, still facing away from Bill.

Bill looked over to Fox, seeing his sad face. "Something the matter, Fox?"

"Nah," said Fox, shaking his head. "Just wondering how things would have been if it turned out differently."

"Don't worry about that," Bill said, climbing up to Fox's Arwing. "I'm sure you'll find someone you like out there. You're a decent enough guy, Fox. Don't get discouraged."

"That's not what I meant," Fox said sadly.

Bill sat beside Fox, confused at his words. "Oh? Well, what do you mean, then?"

"I just don't know what to do with Star Fox, man. I mean, Slippy left for his fiancee, ol' Peppy retired, and Falco just left me recently as well. Said he was looking for something different or something. I think he saw the writing on the wall. Star Fox isn't needed anymore. I just think... The team's been a source of identity for me. Maybe it's a good thing we're not needed anymore, I guess, but I don't know what to do with myself, much less worrying about if I'll have a child or not."

"We'll think of something," said Bill, putting a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Just think, I might be able to pull a few strings and I could get you a place here with the Army, maybe working for Dash or something."

"Thanks, but I was thinking about something else," Fox said, finally making eye contact with Bill.

"What, then, exactly?" asked Bill, showing intrigue with his tone.

Fox chuckled again, showing a rare smile from his face. "I don't know, man, you'll just laugh at me when I'll say it."

"You know I'll support you no matter where you go," Bill said. "Even if I do laugh, I do it out of love, right?"

"Ha! I'll bet!" Fox was now completely beside himself. "Well, I'm not even sure if this is a good idea or not. But I want to make sure my kids are safe wherever they go, right? This galaxy's screwed up as is, even with Venom and Corneria coming together. There will still be criminals running around. People with more than a few grudges against me. People who easily recognize me for what I've done. I just don't know if I should leave myself out in the open like this, you know?"

Bill looked like he was dead certain on what he was going to say, even if he didn't have the words coming to him almost immediately. "Don't be so sure that you know what your kids want, if you end up having any. When my daughter grows up, I'll let her decide what she wants to be. My dad was so strict when I was growing up, I pretty much did the exact opposite of what he told me to do. If he said left, I went right. If he said white, I'd say black. He told me not to go to the Air Force, and I went. He couldn't stop me."

"Funny how that works," said Fox. "My dad didn't want me to become a pilot. Yet I always looked up to him. Always wanted to follow his lead. Yet he never wanted me to go to the Academy, just like your dad." Fox let out a sigh, reminiscing about old times. "You think we're guided by fate? Or do you think we're in control of our destiny?"

Bill leaned back in stunned silence, almost falling off the Arwing. "What makes you ask that?"

"The fact that we're still here, despite all the shit we've been through, making mistakes almost daily."

Bill just laughed back. "I don't know man! I'm the wrong person to ask!"

"You promised not to laugh!" Fox said jokingly.

"Sorry," Bill mocked back. "Don't say I didn't warn you!"

An audible tone came from Bill's communicator, and Bill grabbed it from his pocket, showing concern about the message. "The procession's coming around soon. Everywhere looked clear the last time I checked, but I'll go check again."

"Sounds good," Fox responded. He brought out his binoculars and scanned all the buildings that were near the main street. "There isn't a single window open on the entire street," Fox said to Bill. "Let's keep an eye out, though."

"Of course," replied Bill, setting up his sniper rifle. "Streets look bare, too. I'll just give them the go-ahead, then, if there's nothing to report."

"If you say so," said Fox.

Bill turned to Fox, noticing his skepticism. "You don't sound too convinced, Fox…"

"I just have a bad feeling about all of this," Fox said. "No particular reason, I'm just worried. This just feels too perfect."

As the procession came around to the front of the parliament building in the distance, a huge crowd of supporters could be seen greeting Dash Bowman, the leader of Venom. Bowman stepped outside the limousine, waving briefly to the crowd before heading up the stairs and inside the building.

"So far so good," Bill stated to Fox. "Looks like Bowman got inside no problem."

As the crowd started to disperse, Fox noticed a dark figure, covered completely by the sweater he was wearing, scanning each of the members of the crowd in intense detail.

"It's quite an unusually warm day here today," Fox said to Bill. "Don't you think that guy in the sweater is a bit overdressed?"

Bill zoomed in his lens towards the man in the sweater. "That does look suspicious, bud. Keep an eye on him while I aim the sniper rifle. I don't want him to go anywhere."

Fox got a closer look at the hooded man, trying to pry through his disguise. It was very difficult to see through, given the complexity of the situation. "It's obvious that he had his eye out for Dash, but why didn't he go right at him?"

Bill hastily focused his sights as he zoomed in on the hooded figure. "Too many witnesses in the area, most likely. The crowd would have also gotten in his way if he decided to attack. I'm all ready now, you can keep scanning."

Fox brought his binoculars to where the parliament building was, and noticed Dash sitting at his desk near the front of the building, meeting with some delegates. "He looks pretty well guarded inside," said Fox. "I still don't see anyone trying to snipe him at any of the usual vantage points, from what we can see. But what about from the points we can't see from?"

"The Army says they got the rest of the place covered," assured Bill. "They told me during the briefing that we were only to focus on the front of the building."

"Sounds like to me like some kind of trap," Fox said spitefully.

Before any of them could react, a laser came from the bottom of the street, striking the front of the parliament building, and attacking those inside the room with Dash Bowman. A large explosion then followed, and Bill and Fox fell from the Arwing, shaken by the blast. Once all the dust settled, Fox could hear the horrifying screams of the crowd, as they panicked and ran amok across the streets, making the situation much more stressful.

"The fuck just happened?" Fox bellowed out in vain. He frantically searched the area with his binoculars for the assassin, filled with rage. "What the fuck just happened?"

"I don't know man," Bill said, with his head down low. Bill couldn't find the words to describe the horror laid out in front of him. Nothing he could say could manage the situation effectively.

Amongst the panic in the crowd, Fox spotted the same hooded man he spotted earlier, running in the opposite direction the crowd was trying to go in. Fox zoomed in on the hooded man, and still couldn't look at his face. A guard then came out of the parliament building with his blaster drawn out, but the hooded man quickly fired his laser sniper at the guard, killing him instantly.

"That's the guy," blurted Fox. "Get in the ship and chase him down!" screamed Fox, as he launched his Arwing into the air, and blasted straight off to the parliament building. Once he landed in there, Fox ran inside the building, but couldn't get very far, with the building in ruins from the explosion. He ran back outside, right as a column nearly fell on him as it leaned over. As Fox went outside, out of breath, he could see a mysterious fighter jet lifting off away from the parliament building and preparing to zoom off into the distance.

"Bill," said Fox nervously into his communicator. "He's about to get away!"

"I got him!" Bill replied back, getting into his cruiser, as he sped off. Fox followed behind Bill in his Arwing, but as the two were about to close in on the assassin, a fleet of thugs came rushing in behind them, charging up their lasers.

"Take care of the guys behind us, Fox!" Bill screamed into his radio. "I'll chase down the assassin!"

"Got it," Fox replied back. He pulled away from Bill and went behind the thugs, shooting some of them down instantly. Three of them rushed forward to where Bill was, so Fox chased after them and sent in a charge shot at the group. The group dispersed, but Fox could still see the thugs nearby, reassembling their formation, as more enemy ships could be seen coming into the picture.

Fox scanned the area on his radar and found two enemies coming right at him. He got the lock-on tool ready on the first jet, fired straight at him, and the splash damage was able to get rid of the enemy right beside him, taking them both out at once.

A few more fighters were coming around from both sides of Fox's Arwing. Fox turned to the left, took shots at the enemy fighters there, then when he passed them he made his Arwing flip backward, turned to face upright again, and saw both the fleet that just passed him and the fleet coming in from the other side both in front of his firing range. Fox sent out a smart bomb and took shots on the perimeter of the fleets, hoping to get the most out of his firepower. The smart bombs exploded when the two fleets were approaching each other, taking them all out, save for a couple of fighters around the edge.

Thinking that these two enemies were the only two left remaining, Fox bolted his Arwing towards the jets to shoot them down. Just then, alarm bells rang out from his radar, signalling that there were more enemies approaching from all directions. Fox looked around the glass of the cockpit, not wanting to believe that he was now completely surrounded but he saw a whole bunch of fighters forming a circle around him, confirming his worst fears. Fox was now being outnumbered and was completely overwhelmed.

"Shouldn't we radio in the Husky unit now?" Fox asked.

"Don't worry about it, Fox," Bill replied sternly. "Once we take down the assassin, we can get out of here, fast. Just let me focus!"

Fox could only look over at his radio and how close it felt to him. It almost felt like the radio was trying to lure him over. It would be only a quick call away to send in more reinforcements, and it certainly wouldn't hurt having more fighters helping them out.

But as soon as he tried to make up his mind, an enemy fighter flew right past Fox, swerving to get out of his way, narrowly missing Fox's Arwing.

"Watch where you're going, Fox!" Bill yelled at him immediately thereafter.

"Shoot! Sorry, Bill," Fox replied sheepishly. Fox grabbed the controls afterwards and gunned down to the centre of the battle area, where some of the enemies were emerging from. Fox sent down a smart bomb and tried to break off the carrier that had been churning out ship by ship out into space, but the smart bomb had no effect.

Fox scanned the radar again, trying to look for Bill to see where he was and found him frantically trying to shoot down the assassin as he weaved around the sky, but there was a couple more following behind Bill trying to do the same thing.

"Bill! You've got a couple fighters on your tail! Watch out!" Fox said as his muscled tensed out of stress.

Fox swung his Arwing around to go in front of the two fighters that were following Bill. Fox could see them go past him where they zoomed past but Fox turned his Arwing again so that he would be able to face directly behind them while still elevating upwards. Eventually both Fox and the enemy fleet were now level, and Fox rushed to bring his Arwing to face the two enemy fighters, not hesitating to fire right at them.

The first fighter was shot down and fell off right afterwards. The second fighter, though, was smarter and dodged the initial shots Fox made. Fox kept firing, but he noticed Bill pull his jet upwards. The enemy fighter did so as well, and Fox felt he had no choice but to follow suit and go upwards.

Fox could feel the G-forces pressing down on his head as he lifted the Arwing up. Fox tried as hard as he could to keep control of his Arwing, as they kept pulling around in all kinds of directions.

Fox eventually caught up to the enemy jet as Bill leveled out and tried to speed away. Fox waited until the enemy was within the firing area of his lasers, and once it was, Fox opened fire on a flurry of shots, not wanting to take any chances on missing. But the enemy kept spinning around Fox's shot, doing aileron rolls to deflect the shots away in different directions. Fox kept firing, but the enemy suddenly darted off on a tangent. Fox turned his body to see where the fighter was going, but ignored it and went after the assassin, following directly behind Bill. Fox's radar then went haywire, showing dozens of fighters coming into the area. A few lasers came in firing from all around Fox, and in the confusion, Fox lost track of where he was and lost sight of Bill. Fox's Arwing spun around and around for a few seconds, and as Fox regained control of the Arwing, Fox searched all over the radar and all around him, frantically searching for Bill.

"Fox!" Bill screamed in the radio. "Where are you?"

"I was about to ask the same thing for you!" Fox replied in a hurry. Soon he spotted Bill's cruiser as he was being chased down by two enemy fighters, firing constantly at him. Bill tried to dodge each of their lasers, but it was all in vain. Soon the fighters got close to Bill, and they were able to shoot directly at the engine of Bill's ship.

"Fox!" Bill screamed out. "Get the guys behind me! I'm going down!"

Fox couldn't believe his own eyes and ears. "Bill! Hold on! I'm on my way!"

But as Fox got closer and closer to where Bill's ship was going towards, it took a sudden nosedive towards the ground, and exploded on impact, leaving a huge fireball in its place, blinding Fox temporarily. When the brightness faded away, Fox could only shudder in horror as he saw what remained of Bill's ship. Fox rashly landed his plane not far from where the wreckage was, and Fox sprinted over to the cockpit. As he opened it up, his body trembled in guilt and his mind started to go numb as Bill's charred remains smouldered in the wreckage. Fox carried what he could of Bill's remains, slowly lifting it away from the cruiser and away from the blaze, but even he felt the futility of this. As Fox set Bill's body on the ground, Fox could only look up to the sky and cry out in agony, shuddering in agony.

"Bill… I'm so sorry…"

* * *

 

In a desolate area of the Lylat System, a planet only known as Papetoon circled the universe, out of the geographical epicenters of Venom and Corneria. In this arid-filled desert lay the remains of what was once a peaceful system; a reminder of what times were like before chaos reigned over the galaxy.

Fox lay there in bed, with the stifling air filling the bedroom. It was just like any normal day, but today, it felt worse. Fox lay there, shuddering in fear, knowing of the dread when he opened up his communicator and looked at the date. Against his better judgement, he opened the communicator up and looked at the messages, and soon enough, his worst fears were confirmed and Fox's mind completely shut down as he threw the communicator back on the desk in disgust.

"The day of darkness..." "Here we go again. If only I could make this day disappear forever. Hearing about the memorial services is bad enough already."

Fox sat back up on the bed, holding his hands in his face and ashamed. "Gahh, what am I going to do now? Already the day's ruined. No sense getting out of bed now."

"Fox? Are you there?" Fox could hear Krystal's soothing voice in the distant hallway.

"Yes, Krys," Fox sighed. "What's up?"

Krystal swung open the door, looking distressed as usual. "Knew I'd find you here. Marcus is looking all over for you. You'd said that you would take him into town today."

"Aw, shit, I forgot!" Fox threw away the bedsheets in a panicked state. "Forgive me if I leave a bit rushed," he said, quickly pecking Krystal on the cheek before running down the stairs, where Marcus was impatiently waiting.

"Dad!" yelled Marcus. "Where have you been?"

"Sorry, Marcus," said Fox, nearly red in the face. "Just slept in today, that's all."

"Someday," Fox said to Marcus, "you'll have to learn how to drive these landspeeders by yourself! Then you'll be able to go out if you want."

"I'm counting on it," replied Marcus defiantly.

Fox put on his sunglasses as he opened the door outside to the blazing hot conditions outside. "I'm just surprised you haven't gotten that license yet, at 18 years old. Even I got my license at 16."

"Very funny, Dad," Marcus joked back. "Even with your sunglasses I can see through that one."

Fox simply smiled back as the two stepped into the landspeeder, and Fox strapped into the driver's seat. "Well, who knows? Maybe you'll get the money you'll need to buy one if you land that job of yours. What position was it for again?"

"Just someone working in cargo," replied Marcus hesitantly. "They really didn't say much."

Fox sped off in the landspeeder, going at an excruciatingly slow pace. "Well, just be careful, I don't trust this place, that's all."

A couple minutes passed as they drove along the side of the road, with two other speeders zooming by them as they went at the speed limit.

"I don't mean to complain, but could you go a bit faster? I don't want to be late for the interview!"

Fox strangled the steering wheel in frustration. "Shut up and let me focus," he growled.

"Sorry, dad," Marcus replied, turning away from Fox, staring into the desert. He kept to himself throughout the rest of the trip, anxiously waiting in frustration as the landspeeder practically crawled along the landscape of Papetoon.

When the two finally arrived in the city center of Newport City, Marcus practically jumped out of the landspeeder and went inside to a well-kept building, not exactly the best looking but not like a dump, either. Fox waited in the landspeeder, sitting still and not doing anything, lest he lose his focus. The radio on the landspeeder fell silent, but he could still hear all the other landspeeders whizzing by, with some of them talking about the events of years past. Fox just about got sick to his stomach listening to those people talk about the Day of Darkness.

"They don't have a clue what happened then..." Fox took out his waterbottle and drank what was left remaining to the last drop. "Man, I'm going to throw up soon or something."

Just as he threw away the plastic bottle in disgust, Marcus walked out of the building, looking nervous but appeared as if he wanted to say something to Fox.

"How did it go?" asked Fox.

"It was ok," Marcus sighed, without going into detail.

Fox readjusted the mirrors on the landspeeder, while Marcus buckled himself in. "So? Did they say anything?"

"Not really," said Marcus.

"Did they say if they'd call back or anything?" Fox said, growing in suspicion.

Marcus didn't respond, looking down towards the floor of the landspeeder. Fox turned over to Marcus and saw his solemn look on his face. "You didn't get the job, didn't you?"

"Not exactly," Marcus replied, nervously.

"Well, what do you mean?" Fox said, raising his eyebrow slightly over the rim of his sunglasses. "Did they offer you something or not?"

Marcus looked at Fox's sunglasses, as his mind swirled and conflicted within himself. Eventually, Marcus turned back towards the front of the road, not saying a word.

"They want you to go out of the planet, do they?" Fox asked skeptically.

"I don't know..." Marcus sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

Fox let out a groan of frustration. "Well, your mom will find out, sooner or later."

"That's true," Marcus admitted. "I just want to go back home, think about life for a bit, you know?"

"I could also use another hand back on the fields," said Fox, as he was starting up the landspeeder, almost as if he was giving an order.

"Sure," Marcus replied, as if he was simply trying to dismiss the matter.

The two went back without saying much, and the awkward silence went all the way towards their home in the secluded desert, the same house built by his grandfather, James McCloud. Marcus was reminded of that fact when he saw the house as Fox pulled in the landspeeder into the driveway.

"I know what to do now," Marcus said to himself, as Fox went back inside, smiling in relief. "It's time to take back control of my own destiny, and our family's. I don't care what Dad says now."

Marcus came back inside from the sweltering heat into the relatively cool room inside the house, finding his mother, who, despite Marcus entering in as quietly as he could, still noticed him coming through the door, as she was cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen nearby. She still kept washing the dishes, but using her telepathic abilities, she was able to figure out what Marcus was going to say within seconds. She put down the dish and turned over to Marcus, nervously waiting by the front door, almost startled in fear.

"There's no point trying to hide anything from me," Krystal said. "You, of all people, should know that."

"I know..." Marcus sighed. "So there's no easy way of saying this... but I've made up my mind, even with everything that's gone on in the past. I just got accepted into the Republican Army."

Even though Krystal knew it was coming, it still came as a shock to hear the words coming out of Marcus' mouth. "You... can't be serious, can you?"

"I am serious," replied Marcus. "I know this is who I am."

Krystal came near Marcus as they both sat down on the couch in the living room nearby. "I know you've been wanting to be more than a farmer for the rest of your life... but you do realize that there's nothing but chaos out there in the world right now? People who fight in these wars only end up getting killed, or end up getting their lives destroyed. Your father is the best example of that."

"I'm aware of that," said Marcus. "But like I said before, it's our destiny to fulfill the peace in the galaxy. And I know I can't do it alone. This is the best place to start."

"I know..." Krystal sighed in defeat. "I do wish you'd reconsider. And besides, why try to hide things from your dad?" It will only make things worse.

"You know how mad he gets when things don't go his way," Marcus replied in haste.

"Now, you know your dad loves you very much... but like most people who battle in these wars, they only end up broken or worse. I want you to think about it some more, just before you do anything wild or crazy or something like that." Krystal brought her arm on Marcus' shoulder. "Please, son, think for your future. Not in the next year, but for the rest of your life."

"I will," Marcus said with confidence. "Believe me, I will." Marcus got back up from the couch and started to go out the back door towards the fields, when he stopped and turned back to Krystal. "If I'm being honest... I've been thinking about doing this since you first told me about when you and dad were with Star Fox. And it got me to thinking... why can't I help the universe like this? This is my calling. It must run in the family, I think."

Krystal leaned back on the couch, almost stunned by that admission. As Marcus went outside, she was almost beside herself, conflicted in thought as she remembered the years that had flown past her. "Fox told me not to go into too much detail telling him about Star Fox... I thought I did enough... where did I go wrong?"

Within a few minutes Krystal found the courage to speak to Fox, privately and with honesty. She found Fox sitting alone, as the sun was setting in the sky, and Fox was sitting on the ground, blissfully unaware of his surroundings, as he was enjoying the small, warm breeze filling the air.

"Fox?" Krystal said nervously. "How you're doing? Are you ok?"

Fox turned around and looked at Krystal's blue eyes, mesmerized by it's beauty, but quickly grew concerned. "I'm fine... What about you? You always have that look on your face when you're concerned about something. What's going to happen now, Krys?"

Krystal sat down on the ground with Fox, bracing herself for impact as she drew in a heavy breath. "Marcus spoke to me just now... he said he wanted to join the Republican Army."

Fox paused, staring right at Krystal, not changing his expression. But inside, Krystal could tell that Fox was almost ready to break down into pieces. "Why?" he asked.

"Honestly, I don't even know..." Krystal answered, trying not to upset Fox. "He's determined to go there, that's for sure. He didn't want to upset you in any way."

"Well, he's already done that," Fox growled, jumping off the ground in a huff. "I don't know what's messed up that kid, but I'll figure out something, talk him out of this... There's a reason we went here, as a family, into this place, so that we wouldn't get involved in what happens elsewhere anymore. I don't want him to go through with this."

Krystal got back up on her feet, looking at Fox directly in the eyes. "Just talk to him calmly, Fox. He still loves you, Fox, but he's just young, just as we were. I know the job market is very poor here, but there has to be something he can get involved with. I know of it."

Fox simply stared back at Krystal, with his blood boiling to a crisp. "Knowing him, it's probably another one of his phases. He'll get over it eventually. We just need to be patient."

"This isn't one of his phases, Fox," Krystal said adamantly. "He's really being serious this time."

"And you know this because?" Fox snarled, raising his eyebrow.

"I just know, that's all," Krystal replied. "I can't explain it better than that."

Fox slowly walked back towards the house, biting his lips as he seethed in anger. "You'll have to explain it better than that. I can't read his mind like you can, you know..."

"I know that, you fool..." Krystal turned away from Fox in frustration. "The point is, I don't know what he's going to do when he's gone, that's all..."

"That's the least of our worries," said Fox, as he headed inside the house, thumping his feet on the ground with his heavy boots. "I'm just trying to make sure our son doesn't get himself killed out there!"

Krystal followed Fox as he paced up the stairs into Marcus' room, and felt his anger seethe through his mind. Fox put on a brave face on to try and calm her, but Krystal could figure out pretty quickly that Fox was simmering deep inside. Krystal was saddened and worried, troubled at what Fox might say to Marcus. He had wanted Marcus to live on the family farm, free from any danger in the world. He was seeing his hopes being destroyed in an instant.

"I'd better not go up there," Krystal said quietly out loud to herself. "It will just get Fox mad even more with me around."

Fox went to the door of Marcus' room and noticed it was open a crack, with the light in the room barely shining through. He peeked his head through the door, seeing Marcus lying down at his side, staring out the window. Marcus then sat up and noticed Fox looking through, almost swallowing his tongue with fear. He stared at Fox, staying silent and still, waiting for Fox to start.

"So... You want to join the Army, hmm?" Fox entered the room slowly, as his body started to shake inside.

"Who told you that?" Marcus replied shyly. "I told you what you need to know."

"Really?" Fox barked sternly. "I told you, your mom can see right through everything. There's no point lying to me."

Marcus thought in his head for a few moments, before sighing in defeat. "You're right... I just don't know what to say to you -"

"You know that the Army only recruits people to kill for a living? You ever think of that?" Fox was almost seething red in anger. "The last thing I want from you is to join the Army."

"You always say about what you want," replied Marcus. "This is what I want from my life. Dad, I love you, but... This is my destiny. I feel I have an obligation to defend this galaxy, like you did."

Fox walked past Marcus as he went towards the window, taking in a deep breath. "If you knew what I went through to defend the galaxy, would you still be willing to take that risk with your life?"

"If it meant peace in the galaxy," said Marcus, "I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Fox lifted his eyebrow in skeptism. "Who's been telling this to you? All this about destiny and obligation and what not?"

"Nobody," replied Marcus. "I've been wanting to make a difference in the world for as long as I can remember. Besides, there's nothing here on Papetoon... Nobody can find a real job here."

"Is farming not a real job?" shouted Fox, lifting his arms up, almost aghast in disbelief. "What more do you need here? There's opportunity and safety all around here. Why leave?"

"Like I said," insisted Marcus, "to fulfill our destiny."

Fox came up to Marcus, close enough to feel each other's breath. "Our destiny, son? You ever think about my side of things for a change?"

Marcus stood there, startled by Fox's proximity. "You ever think of the same for me?"

Fox stepped away from Marcus, drawing short breaths and starting to sweat from his forehead. "You're not going out there to Corneria, it's as simple as that. I'm not going to lose you." He then slowly made his way out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. "If you want to know something, there's someone like you 20 years ago who thought the same way like you do now, always thought he had some obligation to fix this galaxy, one way or another. Then, everything he knew about the world shifted instantly, and soon he found out the truth about this galaxy - that it's run by the elite, and nothing more. They don't care about anyone but themselves. They only care about their own self-interests. They don't care who dies when it's all said and done."

Marcus sat back down on his bed, solemn and grieved. "Whatever happened to him?" he asked cautiously.

Fox drew up a deep breath, slowly making his way downstairs. "You're looking at him."

As Fox walked away, Marcus sat back on his bed, conflicted in opinion over what had happened. "He never told me about all this before," sighed Marcus. "The only thing I can do now is to avenge him - whoever did this to him. I'll fight for our honour, one way or another. I can do this."

Marcus went to sleep that night, full of confidence in his mind. As he woke up the next morning, the first thing that popped into his mind was the conversation he had with Fox the night before. "Jeez, that was a hell of a night," groaned Marcus, rubbing his forehead. "I've got to get out of here, somehow. I can't spend the rest of my life sitting idly in here."

Marcus went downstairs into the living room, seeing Fox sleeping on the couch, as usual. "Another argument with Mom last night, I'll bet," Marcus said quietly to himself. Marcus grabbed his backpack and stepped outside, making his way towards the landspeeder, when he felt Krystal's presence around him, and stopped in his tracks to turn around and face her.

"You're going to the Army... aren't you?" Krystal said solemnly.

Marcus stood there, unsure what to reply back with, before sighing. "Yes... It's what I've always wanted to do as a kid."

Krystal walked closer to Marcus, almost close enough to touch his face. "Just think, for a moment, before you do something you'll end up regretting for the rest of your life. Don't leave us like this."

"I have to," replied Marcus. "This is my calling." Seeing tears coming out of his mother's eyes, Marcus wiped them off Krystal's cheek. "Please don't cry... This was bound to happen eventually. I'll be fine."

Krystal slowly brought down Marcus' hand from her face and held it softly in her hands. "Please don't go…" she softly cried out.

Marcus didn't reply back, as he was lost for words. Marcus backed away nervously from Krystal, making his way back towards the landspeeder, stuttering his words in nervousness. "You know I always love you and Dad... but this is my time to shine."

Krystal simply nodded, not wanting to sadden herself any further. As Marcus went inside the landspeeder, Krystal could sense Fox coming outside the house.

"Wait!" Fox barked out. "Where are you going?" He tripped on the steps of the front door, and fell onto the dirt path below. Fox was barely able to get himself back on his knees when he could only see the landspeeder going away in the distance, leaving the two behind in the dust.

Fox sat there on his knees, bereft and in shock. "You... let him get away," he growled to Krystal.

"There was no use holding him up any further..." Krystal sobbed. "He was going to go, one way or another."

Fox found the energy to pick himself up on his feet, shaking the dirt off his clothes as he stumbled upwards. "I can't lose him forever, Krys." Fox turned to Krystal as she could sense the fear and anger in Fox's eyes. "I'm calling the cops on him."

Meanwhile, out in the distance, Marcus couldn't do much of anything but keep the pedal of the landspeeder floored to the ground - despite his objections. He was almost paralyzed, weaving through the dirt fields and pathways that lined the planet, navigating through the maze of roadways towards Newport City. As Marcus kept going faster and faster, and the dirt that was being tossed up in the air kept going into his eyes, stinging him with every chance they got, he kept going, determined to get to the city center in time. Eventually he found the front of the city gate, and pressed hard on the brakes, only to find them be completely unresponsive. He kept pushing and pushing on the brake pedal, but there was barely any response coming from the brakes at all.

"Shoot," Marcus yelled, "I'm not going to make it very far in this thing!"

Finally, Marcus put all his might onto the brakes, and finally got his landspeeder to slow down, but not in time to bump into the landspeeder ahead of him, waiting at the city checkpoint to enter the city. The man inside the landspeeder jumped out of there, scowling and fuming from his ears. As soon as the man came out of the landspeeder, Marcus froze and grasped the steering wheel, full of fear.

The man walked up to where Marcus was, still staring at him and his bleach-white hair and his scowling eyebrows, only intensifying the fear. Marcus kept waiting and waiting for the man to say something, but the man only kept staring deeper and deeper into Marcus' eyes, becoming more and more furious. Eventually, Marcus couldn't take the dread any longer.

"Can I... help you?" Marcus squeaked, shaking in his seat.

The man rolled his eyes, shaking his head afterwards. "Just shut up, you prick. Luckily I don't have time to mess around with jerks like you. Just go back to your den, you pup."

Marcus was startled by that glib remark, but as the man went back into his landspeeder, signed a document for the checkpoint user and drove away, Marcus breathed a sigh of relief. "I can't help but feel I've seen that guy before," Marcus thought to himself. "I just don't know where, though. I've never met this guy before in my life."

As Marcus pulled up towards the front of the gate, a security officer went up to Marcus, signalling for his identification. Marcus quickly handed him an ID card, and the security officer quickly read through it. "Go through, kid."

Marcus saw the landspeeder and the empty air behind them, and shrugged. As he sped away from the checkpoint, and stopped at the first stoplight, Marcus took another look at the phony ID he gave to the security guard. "I can't believe I got away with this," he chuckled. "I should do this kind of stuff more often."

Marcus drove through the numerous streets of Newport City, before arriving at the place he was at the day before – the military enlistment center. Tucked away inside the alleyway of the dusty streets, Marcus snuck in behind, checking to see if anyone was following him, before entering through the front door and seeing the unscrupulous attendant sitting at the front desk.

"May I help you?" the attendant demanded, as if she wanted to get the day over and done with.

Marcus' muscles twitched as he took a deep breath. "Is this where you sign up for the Republican Army?"

The attendant shook her head. "You don't apply to the Army, son - you apply to the Academy. Once you pass through the Academy, then you can try getting into the Army. Easier said than done, though. I never met someone who got into the Army without a perfect record."

"I'm willing to take that risk," Marcus defiantly stated. "I know what I need to do."

The attendant drew up a document and gave it face down to Marcus. "This is what you'll have to sign before going in. Just a fair warning though, once you go in, there's no going out of the Academy. Even if you leave in person, it still remains in you, whether you like it or not. There's no running away from the Republican Army."

"I'm well aware of that," said Marcus, signing his name at the bottom without hardly looking at the document.

As soon as Marcus handed back the document to the attendant, she gave a wry smile before turning back towards the computer on her desk, hardly giving Marcus any attention. "The next batch of people leave tomorrow. There will be a flight of people going with you at the same time. You'll be provided clothing and housing when you're at the Academy. Do you have everything you need?"

"Just about," replied Marcus. "Anything else I'll need I'll get between now and tomorrow. Besides, there's nothing for me here that I need."

Marcus left the room and the alleyway, looking up to the humid sky and pondering to himself. "The whole of my future is awaiting me," said Marcus. "Now I have to act soon." Marcus went over to his Dad's landspeeder and activated the GPS on it. "The least I can do is to give this back to Dad. I'll have to get a license of my own eventually."

It was getting late in the day, and Marcus found a rundown motel not far from where the launch pad was to Corneria.

As he stepped into the room, he could smell the stench of smoke and cigarettes and other illicit drugs. He ignored them as best as he could as he crawled into the rock-like bed for the night. Day turned into night and night turned into day - and now Marcus woke up for the third time that night, not long before six in the morning, tired, restless, and in a mind of his own.

Marcus went into the washroom and washed his face with cold water, the only source of cooling in the slum of a hotel room he had to sleep in for the night. He shook his head in his sleep-deprived state. "Jeez, can't believe I'm almost there already," said Marcus, rubbing his eyes. "This could be the chance of a lifetime."


	2. Chapter 2

Two years later...

* * *

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way," Marcus said to his only friend at the academy, Greg. "All my dad wanted was to live a simple, carefree life, away from the madness and chaos that reigned across the galaxy."

"So naturally," Greg the dachshund, continued, "You decided to join up the hardest military Academy to get into?"

Marcus chuckled back. "Yeah, I guess. But I really don't mind studying. I just wished they wouldn't shove some of their propaganda down our throats, that's all. I mean, I've been here for almost two years. You'd think they'd give me a bit more respect."

"Welcome to the real world," Greg growled back. "Still, you have to wonder what we're going to do after we graduate. The Army doesn't have a lot of openings at the moment."

"Yeah," Marcus nodded back. "I'm concerned as well. As if we didn't have enough problems to worry about. Then again, those instructors weren't lying – this was going to be the hardest thing we would do in our lives. So hopefully things will go easier from here."

"Here's hoping," said Greg, opening the door to the class for Marcus, escaping the noisy atmosphere in the hallways. "Just make sure you don't disappear like Robert did."

Marcus entered through the door, smiling back at Greg as he held it open. "Whatever happened to Robert, anyway?"

"Ah, who knows," Greg shrugged. "Some say he went back to Venom, where he came from. Others say that he went to work for a private company shipping cargo across the galaxy. That's probably the last thing I want to do for a living for the rest of my life."

Marcus sat down near Greg, sighing in anxiety. "I just want to graduate, you know? Nobody in my family was able to make it. My grandad, my dad, they all went here, but they didn't make it. It just feels so close, man. We only have a couple months to go, but don't you get the feeling that somebody's going to try to take that away from you?"

Greg stared back at Marcus, not sure what to respond with.

"Sorry," Marcus said. "Guess I rambled for too long again?"

Greg rolled his eyes, and opened up his notes before class began.

Marcus sat back on his chair, wanting open up his books as well, but found himself unable to focus on the subject ahead of him. It was a lonely life in the Academy, despite the number of people that were there around him. It felt like he didn't really have any place in there, as hard as he tried.

"If my dad had his way," said Marcus to Greg, "I would have been a farmer, or maybe even a scientist working on Fichina trying to terraform the planet like they did to Venom, doing something noble for the galaxy. But science was never my strongest subject. So I wanted to become a pilot, just like everyone else in my family. I had to lie to get off that stinking planet back home in Papetoon. It is the furthest away you could get from civilization in the Lylat System, a planet with nothing but the bugs and the year-round sweltering heat to accompany with. And what happened? I ended up in the worst training garrison you could think of, being stuck on Corneria."

"I tried to warn you before taking that position on Corneria," snarled Greg.

"I know," sighed Marcus. "But it wasn't far from the Academy, and I had enjoyed the first year here, so I wanted to get used to living there. Plus, I wanted to get some combat action, unlike all the other places where all you did was clean their ships all day."

"So instead of cleaning spaceships," stated Greg, "you cleaned up just about everything else instead."

"Yeah," sighed Marcus, looking at the ground in dismay. "All I saw around me was chaos and insanity where I was. I wasn't expecting to be a four-star general right off the bat, but I didn't even go out on one flight. They said they would get me some training flights halfway through the placement, but they never kept their word. They just bossed me around and insulted me at every opportunity they could get. They were never thankful for anything. They just blamed me for everything that went wrong, and always took credit when something went right. That's the problem with this place. They expect you to do things without actually learning how to do them first. I thought the Academy gave people more opportunities to fly outside of a simulator. But you know what the worst thing was?"

"What was that?" asked Greg, pretending to pay attention to Marcus as he put his notebook to the side.

"When I was with the Army sergeants at the garrison," explained Marcus, "they were looking for criminals across the planet – some of them who did various amounts of crimes, of course. But there were others who were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, rounded up just like everyone else. There was one person I noticed when I was with the sergeants that was simply nearby the criminals they were trying to hunt down, and he was arrested for nothing! He just happened to be nearby the criminal, that's all."

"There was something eerily similar to them all, as well," Marcus continued. "Every single person, even the criminals, they all seemed disillusioned, all looking for something more in their lives. Their income didn't matter. Their education or lack thereof didn't matter. All the people that were rounded up were from all walks of life, wanting to break free from their stagnant lives. And they got punished for trying to do that, whether because they committed a crime trying to do so, or because they were trying to break the system. Robert was one of those people, Greg. Do you think he could have been rounded up, too?"

"Who knows," Greg replied. "It's hard to say where he could have gone. If he had been arrested for anything, I think we would all have known by now."

Before he could grumble any further, the professor of the class came in, and immediately Marcus' heart sank. The class was "Citizenship 101," but most of the people he knew dubbed it "Doom and Gloom 101." Basically, it was aimed to help guide people to make better decisions about themselves and to be aware of the problems and issues that were affecting everyone around the galaxy.

The professor was an odd fellow: he would often ramble on without giving anyone a chance to try to have a conversation. This would result in Marcus often zoning out from listening to what the guy had to say. But he would at least listen for the first few minutes before giving up on trying to figure out what the guy was saying.

"There is a huge problem in the planet of Venom right now," the professor stated, "and it's caused by low income and lower job opportunities right now."

"Why can't the Republican Army recruit some people from Venom, and make them better?" asked one of the students in the front row of the classroom.

"There is some recruitment done in Venom," the professor replied back, "but the main problem is that they don't have the qualifications sometimes because they lack having someone around them who can help guide them out of crime and into a newer way of life. It's all cyclical. Without the guidance they need to go on the right path, they can't get anywhere meaningful in life. And because they can't go anywhere meaningful in life, they can't find the right people to help them become better and be better throughout the whole galaxy. So they don't get the right guidance. And it goes around."

Marcus wasn't the most naïve person in the world, but he knew that there had to be a better way for the people of Venom. He knew the problems there were systemic. He knew of the planet's history with crime and violence. Venom was a dangerous place to live. Yet, he knew that not everybody on the planet were bad guys. The vast majority of the people were simply caught in the middle of meaningless feuds that did nothing to solve the conflicts of the colonies over on the planet.

"Everyone knows the story of Dash Bowman," continued the professor. "He saw Venom as a prosperous place to live in the future. He had plans to include all the people in his plans, leaving nobody behind. His main goal was to give everyone living on the planet a meaningful job, so that they could live a life away from crime and hostility there. However, he was killed not long after he took office. And now, the successors of the planet, have not had the same optimism for Venom."

"I hadn't thought about it that way before," Marcus thought to himself. "Venom always had society against them. But could Bowman have changed the face of the entire galaxy?"

As Marcus was theorizing this, the professor frowned at the students in the back joking around, and raised his voice. "What do you think you're doing there? Be quiet and pay attention!"

Marcus facepalmed, dumbfounded at the guys in the back. "I can't believe this shit is still going on," he grumbled to himself. "How the hell are they still passing this course?" Marcus sunk his head into his arms on the desk as he sulked, zoning out the professor trying his best to take back control of the class. "No sense trying to pay attention any further, with these clowns in here…"

As class finally ended, Marcus let out a sigh of relief, then grabbed his bag and whipped it around his shoulder, and followed Greg out of the door. He followed Greg until they went into the lunchroom, and Greg turned around to look for his friends, before finding Marcus first.

"Do you have anything better to do with your day other than following me around?" Greg barked.

"Not really…" Marcus said embarrassingly, scratching the back of his head. "Were you going somewhere, or?"

Greg looked through his timetable, scrambling for a quick response. "If you really want to know, I got a big test coming up, and I haven't even started studying for it. I was just looking for some of my classmates."

"Fair enough," Marcus sighed. "Just gotta get that last class out of my head. It was dreadful.

Greg faced Marcus directly and glared at him straight in the eyes. "You want my opinion? There's really only one problem with this course, and that's the professor is really biased. He really doesn't like Venom. He think it's a crime infested area with no hope at all. I hate it when he didn't offer any solutions to the problem."

"I know," replied Marcus instinctively. "As if we didn't have any better clue on how to solve the problems of the world. The problems were still no closer to being solved, and everyone in the room felt horrible about themselves. I feel helpless in there, you know?"

"Precisely," stated Greg. "But I think the main issue is that he sets up the questions into his own beliefs. Like the one last week, when he was talking about the media. He started out the lesson by asking everyone, 'Why do you think the media is negative?' And I'm like, 'what if the media can be used in a positive way?' I'm not saying that the media is completely positive or negative, but… isn't the whole idea of a professor to be unbiased and let the students form their opinions themselves?"

"That's a good point," said Marcus sadly. "Most of the professors here don't care too much about the students. They just seem to care more about their paychecks and less about the wellbeing of the Academy or the students."

"Hmmph," Greg grunted. "You got that right."

And that was all that had to be said about that.

"Well, I'd best get going," Greg sighed. "These notes don't study by themselves."

"Bye now," Marcus said back, as he saw Greg jump into a landspeeder and drive off into the distance. "The last thing I'd think Greg would do right now is to study, especially with that speeder. Well, might as well enjoy the nice weather," conceded Marcus, noticing the cool and fresh air outside. Compared to the hot, sticky, weather on his home planet it was reasonably cool and fresh, but not too cold like the Cornerian winters. There wasn't snow like there was on Fichina, but it was still cold and damp all the time.

Marcus went into the rather plain courtyard not far from where he was, and passed by a well-built guy standing near the entrance. He had a big leather jacket and a face filled with scars and stories to tell. Marcus stared at the tall man, which wasn't hard to do given that Marcus was barely taller than five-foot-seven and this guy could easily be one of the tallest people on campus, yet by the way the ruffian glared back at Marcus he could tell he wanted no business at all with him.

He got concerning thoughts from the guy; a feeling of anticipation, an expectation of waiting for someone to beat up to a pulp. But Marcus wasn't that man, and from the way the guy glared back, he could tell that he wanted him out of the way as soon as possible, as though the guy thought he was going to rat on him at any moment.

Marcus then snapped his eyes back forward, pretending not to see the guy, and continued on forward without breaking a step. He found a park bench a good distance away from the ruffian and sat down, and pulled out his communicator and pulled up the internal database of the ships used in the Academy to have a quick glance around. It's what he did often when he was bored.

Marcus sighed, both in relief and in disappointment. He had been told by his mother not to use his telepathic powers too much, as it often clouded judgments of other people before getting a good chance to meet them personally. He wasn't a complete stranger to these powers, but he agreed that it often did get in the way of being a reasonable person. Sometimes, though, it would slip through and he'd get a thought from someone that he didn't ask for or want.

This happened a few times when he was growing up, and at first, he really didn't seem to mind this at all. People thought things and he simply picked up what they felt at that moment. But his mom explained that not everybody on the Lylat System had this mysterious power, and that they get quite offended when their thoughts are read without permission. So after that, Marcus didn't go around the world trying to be a psychic or anyone like that. Though he did admit, he did pick up thoughts against his will, either because he was biologically engineered to do so or because an external force was luring him into other people's minds or what not. He was never really certain why this happened in the first place. Marcus found these powers strange, yet oddly normal as well. He had gotten used to this feeling, of being uncertain whether or not he should take advantage of these thoughts or not.

A few minutes passed and out of the corner of his eye the ruffian was talking to another guy, a bit shorter than the tall man, discussing something contentious. He was too far away to sense them both but judging solely on their body language he could tell that they were in some sort of argument. On what, he wasn't sure.

Before Marcus could quite judge the situation, the two suddenly scuffled out into a brawl, and the security guard, who was in a world of his own before then, suddenly jumped into action and had the two of them break off the fight. The shorter guy had a few scrapes on his face and arms, but the ruffian was clearly unaffected by the whole scene. Marcus saw the fight coming from a mile away, and felt that he could have apprehended the thug a long time ago, perhaps when he first entered into the courtyard.

"Maybe I should have gone into security detail," he said quietly to himself, before glancing back onto his communicator.


	3. Chapter 3

Staring outside the window of the hollow, darkened office remained a man who was a shadow of his former self, with nothing but the glory days of the past to remember by. He sulked in discontent, shivering at the cold seeping through the windows and ruffling his greying feathers, chilling him to the bone. He took a few more sips of the coffee nearby him, not that it did him any good, as he still had reminders of the past he wished desperately to return.

Falco was just plain sick. He hated the cold, bitter, weather outside the window, and wanted nothing more than to go back at his home planet in Zoness and bathe in the warm, soothing, water.

"Still bickering about the cold, Falco?" chuckled Major Chen, the Blue Jay, one of Falco's best friends.

"I'd much rather go back to Zoness," grumbled Falco. "But the only problem there is that the cleanup on the ocean waters hasn't been complete yet. Andross really screwed up that planet up, that's for sure. I just wish they would have sent the terraformer onto Zoness instead of Venom. Things would have worked out differently that way."

"Don't tempt with fate, Falco," replied Chen. "Besides, Zoness doesn't have a lot of land on it. Not a lot of people may have lived there."

"True," Falco admitted. Falco was holed over at Fichina, supervising the terraforming process over on the planet. The progress had been very slow over time, and the budget cuts haven't been kind for the team. Ever since the economy came crashing down to the ground the Republic got more concerned about making work for the masses rather than funding science projects.

The one saving grace was that the people around him worked hard. They did whatever was needed to get each experiment done correctly, each day. Wherever the menial task that the Republican Army needed to get done, they went and did it without question. And whenever there was some jerk trying to attack them (which was why Falco took this position in the first place, and not to deal with the bureaucratic fools), the battle squadron could simply jump in and take them down. Some days there could be one crook after another on a daily basis, invading all at once. Other times they could go months without seeing any kind of activity.

The thing about Fichina, and why the terraforming project was founded in the first place, was since the planet became a handy hideout for any criminal to take shelter in when they were on the run. The frequent storms in the area made travel harder for the average goon, so anyone who could navigate properly around the blizzards. The trouble was that most of the goons could not compete with the current generation of the Arwing. Those ships made their lives a hundred times easier, no doubt about that.

Still, Falco sat down in his chair and looked onward at the frozen, barren, surface of the planet. He stuck to his word when Fox disbanded the team all those years ago, and kept flying until the bitter end.

Occasionally, he still flies a couple of ships he has during his free time. But nothing quite compared to flying an Arwing, or perhaps even the Sky Claw, which was built to compete directly with the Arwing. Falco liked it because it was simple, swift, and easy to control. He tried the newer Arwings in a simulator one time but didn't like the complicated bits and pieces of the machine.

Maybe, he thought, he'd get used to the newer Arwings if he only had the chance to fly them on a regular basis. But the Republican Army always seemed to favour youth over experience these days when sending people out on missions. Falco, years before, always seemed to agree with that, but over time, he had to conclude that sometimes it's good to have someone with their head screwed on the right way.

Take, for example, the General position of the Republican Army – formerly the Cornerian Army, as Falco always knew it by in the older days. The first one he remembered was General Pepper, who was confident of everyone's abilities no matter what the circumstances or the odds were. Then there was the pragmatic General Peppy Hare, an old friend of the Star Fox team, who took over shortly after the Aparoid Invasion. He was a more realistic version of Pepper, and he knew of the heavy odds of the troubles that faced the galaxy. But he could always count on Star Fox to save the day.

Then Star Fox disbanded, and Fox left off with Krystal to ride off into the sunset. Slippy, after seeing his best friend leave to start a new family, felt he had to do the same and left for Aquas. Peppy would stay on for a year after the Anglar Invasion but then retired afterwards, not wanting to have a stressful job anymore. Falco was then left as the only active member of Star Fox.

A part of him liked the fact that he teamed up with Katt, his only love, and flew on a few missions together before taking jobs with the (then) Cornerian Army. However, another part of him hated the fact that he was left stuck with higher-ups who were more concerned with their own popularity than the good of the galaxy. Even if Falco became a hero for the huge reward, he had to admit that it felt good to be the good guys for a change, in an era when most people considered mercenaries as people who were up to no good. After he joined the Army, he felt that now he was working with people who were scheming the next plan to screw over the people, one way or another.

It started off a bit innocently. When he joined the Army it was not long after Peppy had retired from his position, though it helped that he gave a good reference for Falco when he could. There was a couple of no-names replacing him, one right after the other, a far cry from the days when it seemed like General Pepper was the go-to guy for what seemed like forever.

Then Gerard Pascal came in, and made a mess of the entire Army. Venom was willing to join forces with Corneria, and Pascal thought that it was a good time to bring in more spending across the board to give back to the poor. He was good buddies with Dash Bowman, and even better friends with Thomas Marshall, who ended up replacing Bowman after he was tragically killed.

The new partnership with Venom and Corneria seemed to work perfectly for a bit, but Pascal got too greedy and starting giving out favours to all his friends in return for bumper contracts and favours on Venom, leaving the people who came there to make a new living behind, and causing a wrath of crime to result in the area. People were jobless and crime took over the planet again. Marshall was in jail now, brought in on fraud and corruption.

Falco didn't understand economics very well, but he was led to believe (according to Peppy, anyways) that what Marshall tried to do only restricted businesses and made things worse. And the extra spending for the sake of spending more didn't help the government's finances, so now the Republican Army was always under a "cut and slash" mode. Now he's been left on the coldest planet in the Lylat System and hardly anything to show for it. Falco couldn't quite understand just how he was able to get here in the first place. It only felt like yesterday when he was flying high at Star Fox.

Before Falco could daydream, an alarm in his communicator went off. His lunch break was over and it was time to get back to work. Falco sighed and dragged himself out of the chair, and walked over to the command centre…

* * *

 

(Inside the Command Centre)

_Hi Mom and Dad,_

_I'm still doing well so far at Fichina. We've made little progress since the previous week but everyone here remains hopeful. Finances remain tight so we've had to scale back our experiments. We've been hopeful that the atmospheric content does not contain too much oxygen, or else that would make any kind of flammable material to not be recommended._

_Still, I remain hopeful that we can find a solution for Fichina very soon. The water content is unbelievable, and is rich in minerals. It should be the best drinking water in the entire galaxy. Too bad it's all frozen up. The potential is limitless in Fichina, and I hope to someday be able to make Fichina a fine planet for everyone._

_We had one little incident with a criminal this week. Someone tried to fire straight onto the command centre, as if nobody was there in the first place. We're not exactly sure where he came from, and we couldn't get the identification of the ship in time, otherwise I would have had more information on it. Other than that, though, it's been really slow. The lack of progress has made the whole team very edgy. I'm afraid they're starting to think that the project is either coming to an end or has no solution but I'm giving just about everything I can for this mission. I won't let it end until there is an answer. I'm not going to give up, even if everyone in the galaxy tells me to. I know I can fix this planet._

_Hope all is well down there right now,_

_-Clara_

She had never figured that during her time out in this barren wasteland, she would never communicate on a regular basis to her parents. But after all this time, she really missed them. She didn't like the cold in Fichina. It only seemed to motivate her more to terraform the planet.

Clara looked around the place and saw her co-workers lounging about in the control room. "Some work ethic they have," Clara grumbled quietly to herself. One was nearly asleep, another was fooling around on his computer, two more were working away but were deep into their own thoughts, and the other, her best friend Johnathan, was the only one besides herself that cared about the project.

Clara turned over to Johnathan, the brown-haired terrier, and got his attention. "Sometimes I just want to call these idiots out sometimes," whispered Clara, not wanting to attract more attention.

"Leave that to Falco," Johnathan replied, not taking his eyes off his computer. "It's not our job to go around policing people in here."

"I know," sighed Clara. "But they keep leaving too much work for us."

Johnathan shook his head. "Just get back to work, Clara. Don't look like a hypocrite talking to me about this."

"You're right," replied Clara, returning to her desk. "Still, it would be great if we could just get more people onboard for this." As soon as Clara sat back down, Falco entered the room, and the light chatter that went on in the room disappeared, and the other workers scrambled to their computers, acting like they were busy.

He went into the main control room and looked around the place, scanning everyone and looking for something to say to them, without knowing the words to say to them. He almost had a bored demeanor on him, and Clara could see right through it. This was somebody who was more used to riding in an Arwing than he was sitting down in a desk job. He wanted to be in the middle of the action, and Clara could see that in him.

It was obvious to her that Falco wanted to say something really brash, something to raise the hairs of everyone in the room and make things run a bit better and faster than they were at the moment. Everyone had stopped goofing off when Falco entered but work was still slow, as it had been for a while. Falco wanted to say something that would almost incite them, but he had restrained himself, like he did most other times, so as to not get complained at and to not get into any arguments. Now was not the time.

"Just… keep doing what you were doing," Falco told the workers in the room. "You're all doing well." Falco left the control room almost as soon as he came in, and everyone else inside breathed a sigh of relief.

Clara turned towards the worker that only a few seconds ago had some video game on his computer before Falco entered the room. "You got lucky there again," Clara griped to the worker.

He could only hum back in agreement. He barely laid his eyes off the computer monitor, not really noticing much else around him.

Clara just sighed and went back to her work. It would be the best for everyone if she didn't discuss his attitude any further.

She checked her email again and found a new message had popped up. She looked around her surroundings to make sure that nobody was trying to catch her doing something slightly out of protocol in the hopes of catching her off-guard.

Nobody usually watches her in that way, but she could never be completely sure. Satisfied that nobody was watching, she opened up her message.

_Clara,_

_Don't let others deter you from your own personal dreams. Have belief within yourself that ultimately you will be exactly where you want to be at the end of the day. Be faithful towards your passions and dreams._

_Always know that whatever happens in your life, you are still a great person, and nobody can change that. I know you're doing a good job there. Keep up the good work._

_All is well here at home right now, if only a bit lonely. Thanks for asking and emailing us._

_Dad and I both love you very much._

_-Mom_

Clara smiled as she closed the email browser. "Thanks Mom… If only the solutions to the world were that easy to solve."


	4. Chapter 4

It was very cloudy outside, and it looked like it was going to rain at any moment. It wasn't a good time to go outside. Everyone was either on their expensive hoverbikes going out of the town, or holed up at the in-house lunchroom at the Academy, staring at the rain and gloom outside.

"Could we do anything but go over this stupid assignment again?" groaned Greg, bored out of his mind. "I really wish you would stop forcing me to write up this drivel."

"Come on, Greg," Marcus demanded, "there's got to have some kind of evidence that shows Dash Bowman was murdered by the Republic."

"It's all based on suspicions and intuition," Greg replied back annoyingly. "There are good reasons why the Republic wouldn't want the information surrounding his death simply floating around for everyone to see. It's all speculative. But let's start with Bowman's killer. Nobody still knows who killed him. We've had all these years pass by and still they haven't found the killer yet. The whole event is so shrouded in mystery that nobody really knows exactly what happened. The fact that we don't know who the killer was is key to the whole problem. If it's someone working for Corneria, immediately we know it was done by the government at the time as an inside job, trying to limit the power of Venom. If it's from someone inside Venom, then we know that there was someone else in the Bowman administration trying to take him down internally. Either way, it doesn't bode too well."

"Officially," Greg continued, "it was caused by some madman that they still haven't tracked down. They've managed to capture just about everyone who has a molecule of drugs on them but they still can't find the man who put a bullet in Dash Bowman."

"Shows the state of things going on in the Republic right now," Marcus huffed as he sat back on his chair. "Nothing they've done makes any sense whatsoever."

They sat in silence for a bit in the lunchroom of the Academy, a non-descript room lined with stale cement blocks as far as the eye can see. The place was too bland to inspire any kind of conversation, but the place was about as lively as it could have been at this time of day. The place was about half-full, as most of the Academy decided not to go anywhere outside in the rain, left with nothing else to do. Nobody really did much of anything on campus.

"Well, that's totally your opinion, I suppose," Greg sighed, breaking the silence between the two.

Marcus took a drink from his bottle and thumped it down with subtle yet noticeable force. He looked up to Greg, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was complaining. It's just that there's not much information on the death of Dash Bowman. There was so much promise in his leadership, man. Nobody had the same optimism for Venom as Bowman did. And once he was gone, cynicism set in the planet, and crime took over."

Greg stood up from the table, running out of patience. "Well, there's no sense trying to debate this here, especially with this weather. If you want, we can discuss this in class. I'll fill out my portion of the assignment later when I have a clearer head. All this work has made my mind numb."

Marcus followed Greg standing up, stretching his arms stiff from sitting down for nearly an hour. "I could use a stretch… even if it is raining outside. Looks like the rain is letting up, anyway."

Marcus got his coat on, barely thick enough to bounce off rain off its body as it started to settle down for the first time in the day. "Still can't get used to the rain here," Marcus said to himself, remembering the dusty fields back on Papetoon. As he noticed a homeless man lying down soaking wet on the sidewalk, Marcus shook his head. "That and the homeless all over the place," he sighed.

Marcus tried walking past the man, going so far as to sidestep his way past the man while trying as hard as he could not to look at him, but the man looked up at Marcus immediately, and gave a hopeful glare.

"Got any spare change?" the man said in a raspy, gravelly voice.

Marcus looked at the man and his beaten up clothes, as the rain started to pour back down from the skies again. He went into his pocket and gave the homeless man the spare change he had, about a couple dollars in all. "Just try to get out of the rain," Marcus told the man.

"Thank you, brother," the man replied back, putting the coins in his pocket and bringing his shredded coat over his head. Marcus then walked away from the man, as he fell asleep almost as soon as he covered his own head.

Marcus felt sorry for the homeless man. Since he came to the Academy in Corneria, he often saw homeless people simply lying down on the street begging for any kind of money that they could get their hands on. Other times, usually late at night, he would find them wandering about, usually shouting at the air for no reason or having them walk around cleaning out the tiny specs of dust from the benches of the campus, and usually didn't dress properly for the weather of the planet.

Marcus gave some money to those people sometimes, especially when they came up to him and approached him. At that distance he could sense their feelings and thoughts, and felt compelled to give them some kind of money to get them through the next day. He could sense their desperation, their hopelessness, their constant worry over finding enough money and food to survive the next day. From what he could gather from their feelings, he could wager that most of them didn't plan to become homeless. They probably had plans and dreams for the future, much like he did right now.

All Marcus could do at the moment was to keep focused on finishing the Academy, and hope that all the galaxy's problems would solve themselves, letting natural history take it's due course. Against all the odds, Marcus felt somehow that he had to continue on, whether or not he succeeded or not.

Marcus had physical training planned next, which was one his better subjects. Not that it was one of the easier ones, but it was one of the few things in life where he could actually physically do something to get better at it, unlike the ethics indoctrination and the technical jargon that he had to go through. All of that felt secondary to firsthand experience and training to Marcus. He felt that somehow, those lessons being shoved down his throat would mean nothing when he was out there fighting for his life and freedom.

The activity planned that day was wrestling, which wasn't one of his stronger sports. Marcus was shorter compared to the rest of the Academy, standing at about five foot seven. He was thin, but had a bit of muscle left over from doing yard work back on Papetoon. He had good endurance, but if he learned anything from when he wrestled two weeks before, the key to winning was simply having more muscle than the other guy, and there were some on the Academy that had more than their fair share of muscle.

The gym was slightly stingy, caused by years of misuse and lack of maintenance. It was still cleaned from time to time but it barely met the minimum standards from the Academy, and the lighting was dim but not very dark. It was certainly darker than the rest of the rooms at the Academy, which sometimes shone so bright, it was hard to see the electronic screens in exact detail, especially when jotting down study notes like crazy. The discrepancy drove the students insane… but there was no sense complaining to anyone about it now, not after all the trouble he went through to get here.

His first opponent was a first year student, appearing much thinner than Marcus was. The young kid looked deeply afraid and worried at Marcus, and he knew immediately without reading his thoughts that he should go a little easier on this guy. He started off slow for a few seconds, keeping him in the match for a bit, then at the 30 second mark, Marcus flipped him over and easily pinned him down.

Marcus got up and helped the poor guy up off his feet, still trembling from the defeat.

"Just remember, always train at maximum strength, even on the slower days. You'll get the hang of it. Don't worry too much."

The first year student looked stunned for a minute, surprised that a second year student would even speak to someone lower down, then simply smiled and said, "Thanks."

The bouts continued onwards. Marcus had won some matches and lost some, but was fortunate to have done well overall. There were some cadets in his fitness group he knew he had no chance of winning but at least he kept it competitive. The instructors didn't necessarily judge who won or lost but how well they wrestled, and how much effort they put into each match.

His final match of the day, though, was against someone that was quite similar to him. He didn't know this guy at all, but figured that he was a bit of an even match and wanted to end the day on a high note as well, and seemed focused and determined to win. Marcus slowly prepared himself and set himself ready for the next match.

The opponent charged at him as the match started, and Marcus braced himself properly to be able to stop his force from breaking through. They struggled for a moment, but the opponent was able to break through after a half a minute and get Marcus to stumble a bit. Marcus rolled back onto his feet and paused for a moment before making the next charge himself. He pushed for a moment until the opponent let him go down onto the mat on his stomach and pinned him down.

Marcus used all his might to push himself back up, but couldn't muster enough force. It felt like an anvil was being placed down on him. He then noticed a slight pressure on the back of his neck – the opponent was pinning him down on his neck! He struggled, both physically and mentally, trying to say something to get someone to notice him but he hardly said a word. His neck was being pressed down too hard.

Then the referee whistled and signalled the end of the match – the match was over.

His opponent got back up and relieved Marcus of the tension that had been placed on him, and Marcus only glared back at him as he got up, breathing heavily and had more than a few words in his mind that he bottled up inside of him, gritting his teeth in irritation.

He then glanced back at the referee, almost like he was telling him, what the hell, that was clearly an illegal hold, what happened there? But Marcus didn't say anything, not wanting to get into an argument he knew he couldn't win.

The two opponents left the ring without so much as saying a word to each other.

Marcus was just about exhausted, and after he had gone through the locker room and went outside to get some fresh air to cool himself down, he was slightly disappointed when he discovered that it was much milder than the usual day at that time of year. He put two and two together and figured that the thunderstorms that had passed through brought in humid conditions, causing the warm temperatures and the volatile skies in the air. Marcus didn't seem to mind, though.

Just as Marcus was to make his way across the other side of the Academy, an older squirrelly man came in and grabbed Marcus and dragged him back into an alley.

"I seem to recognize you," the man grovelled. Marcus guessed that he was about 50 years old, and judging from his battered clothes and his unkempt beard he figured that this man was poor and destitute.

"I know you got a bit of money, boy…" the man continued, grabbing at Marcus's collar, "…you got any money?"

"Go away," Marcus frowned, his adrenaline still running.

"I know where you've come from," the vagrant continued, "and you've got to be one of those rich boys who gets to the Academy… I know how much it takes to enter here… you gotta have something on ya, boy..."

"Even if I did, I wouldn't give it to anyone trying to rob me in a dark alley," Marcus grunted.

"Who said this was a robbery?"

"I figured as much, since we wouldn't be here in this alley if you had simply asked me."

"I'm sick of tired of asking for money all day!" the man growled. He pulled out a pocket knife that he had already extended out of his coat pocket, and went to jab Marcus, when Marcus instinctively grabbed the man's wrist and used his other hand to break his collar free and to whack at the guy's arm swiftly, causing him to drop his knife and sulk in pain, before Marcus struck the man's face with his left fist and made him fall down to the ground.

The man was lying on the floor, still conscious but in obvious pain. His face was red and surely would have some kind of bruise at one point or another. There were a few scratches but hardly any blood. The vagrant would live to see another day.

Not that Marcus tried to knock the guy out or anything. He was simply trying to get him out of the way, avoid getting stabbed at by this complete stranger, and then show him a thing or two on not to mess with him any longer. Marcus left him writhing, not even looking back on him or saying a word.

Marcus looked quickly at his hands and saw that he had cuts on his left hand, probably from the knife scraping his hand as he stopped the knife from entering his body. He could care less where it came from. All that he was focused on was going away as far as possible, as he attempted to figure out who exactly this guy was, and if he really did see him before in the past, how he managed to track him down and find him here at the Academy, and where that man would go after he got back up from his pain. Naturally he couldn't bring him into a hospital or something like that, because the crazy man would simply blame Marcus for everything.

But a part of Marcus wished that he could simply help him get healed, both from the punch in the face that he probably shouldn't have done and from whatever kind of problems that he had inside his head. There wasn't any sane person in the world that would go up to a complete stranger and try to rob him at knifepoint, so it was very clear that this guy was messed up.

The other thing Marcus was worried about was somebody, somewhere, was going to find out about this. Marcus was scrambling just how to explain himself out of this situation…


	5. Chapter 5

There had been nothing but peace on Papetoon. Nothing but serenity and quiet, far away from the chaos that surrounded them around the galaxy. There wasn't anything worth of value for any criminal on the planet, and nobody had any grievances or grudges against anyone on there. It was far, far, away from any kind of terrorism that was unfortunately common in the Lylat System.

Fox had lived in Papetoon as a child, and knew it was a good idea to live there again when he and Krystal decided to have a family together. She agreed that Papetoon was the safest place for them to live in, where not even Star Wolf would track and hunt them down. Even if they did have a revenge plot against Fox there was a small Lylation defense line outside the planet that could easily spot enemies from far away, and even if they were overwhelmed the rest of the Army was a quick dispatch away team which could without a doubt overrun the hapless team. So Papetoon was a perfect spot to live, away from the hoodlums and the criminals of the Lylat System.

Yet, people still fought there. They still argued a lot, brawled and attacked each other, and some even killed to defend themselves or to take revenge against each other. Krystal never understood what turned people to commit horrible acts against each other. Most of the people who lived there had just about everything in their lives; money, a safe house, a family, a decent living, and yet, sometimes greed and anger took over and caused chaos and havoc for everyone around them.

It was reasonable, then, when children would go up to their parents, usually after being told that everything would be alright, and that all was fine in the world, when it clearly wasn't. People still hated each other. People still attacked each other. And people still killed each other.

_Kill,_ she thought… a strong and yet very vague word. One that invoked nothing but sadness around it.

Technically, she killed people in the past as well. Across the galaxy there were people trying to kill her, too, so it was only fair that she would go and kill those trying to kill her. But that word…  _kill…_ it brought a feeling of disgust around itself that the mere mention of the word brought up pain and agony that told people that whoever did what they just did was  _evil_  and that they should be punished for all the wrong things they did.

But that's what they all did, she thought. They punished bad guys for the wrong things they did… and not punish themselves for the wrong things they did…

When she was shooting down ruffians and henchmen in the name of "freedom" for the Lylat System, she never took the time to think exactly who it was that was shot down, or what they were doing before they decided to attack the team. She figured at the time that they were normal people just like everyone else; People looking for a meaning in their lives, a sense of accomplishment, and a satisfaction of knowing that if they do a good job at the end, they will be rewarded in some monetary way and that they will all ride off in the sunset…

Krystal considered herself one of the lucky ones. The ones that weren't so lucky were left beaten, buried, and quickly forgotten, almost as if they didn't exist at all. Mentioning their names would sicken the faces around everyone who knew the fallen.

The word ran through her mind again…  _Kill…_

Other people tried to disguise it by calling it alternative, prettier names to make it seem better for themselves. Some called it "casualties" or "fatally wounded" or "deceased" or even "victimized." Some even went and put a long explanation that they had simply passed on and that their life was no more.

General Pepper, bless him, called it "an act of bravery and courage for the Lylat System."

Fox simply said that "it was the right thing to do."

Falco said it was that they were "kicking some tail."

Krystal wondered, if we said that we  _killed_ them, would we be going around boasting our accomplishments for the galaxy, if we had gone out and murdered every criminal in the universe?

Krystal hoped she set a good example for everyone around her. She didn't take pride in winning battles or defeating enemies or downing henchmen in the name of the Lylat System. She was the practical one, the one who always reminded everyone the costs of endlessly fighting a war that seemingly never ended.

The difference was, it  _did_ end. Venom joined up with Corneria and the hostilities ended. This was supposed to be the peace that everyone was striving for.

Yet people still argued with each other, attacked each other, hated each other… even  _killed_  each other…

The word rang inside her head, pounding endlessly with the beat of the drum inside as she let the news sank of her son being hounded down like a villain. Her son, the son she raised to be a kind and gentle soul, had brutally attacked a homeless man outside the Academy and left him lying there, helpless and injured. They found the poor man and he gave a perfect description of the young man, and immediately snapped him up and took him away to jail.

She figured that Marcus would gain a bit of a tough side when joining the Army, eventually going on to defend the Lylat System in the name of "freedom." She always thought that Marcus would defend for what's good in the universe, for what's right in the world… she didn't exactly expect that a darker, grimmer side would come out as well.

Krystal wasn't much of a crier – she could remember only crying twice in her life, but she came awfully close when Fox came into the room again, after a long time reflecting outside, feeling much the same way as Krystal.

He went up to Krystal, angry at the circumstances that had fallen on Marcus, but also tried to make sure of himself that everything would work itself out, one way or another. A part of him wanted to say "everything will be alright" but deep inside, she felt, everything wouldn't be alright. Marcus's future at the Academy was up in the air, even if he got away scot-free from this mess, because the Army doesn't take public incidents very lightly. It didn't help that Marcus mainly kept to himself and didn't really get along with anybody in the Academy as well. There wasn't anyone in there that could really defend Marcus, since the whole incident happened so quickly, that Marcus was involved, arrested, and then released on probation all in a matter of days. It was impossible, even if Fox had found out about the confrontation the moment it happened, for him to fly over from Papetoon and figure things out for Marcus.

Besides, Krystal had wanted Marcus to set himself free and live independently, wherever that route took it. Time had its strange ways of coming to a conclusion, she reasoned, and that it would be unwise to stand directly in its way and impede it. Impeding the natural passage of time only makes things worse.

Take, for example, the villain who thought it was a good idea to blast through her home planet solely to prove a point to the Lylat System…

She shuddered at the mere thought of her planet's last days. And then Fox appeared in front of her again, his emerald green eyes shining through in the darkness as he stood beside her and hugged her.

"We'll find a way to get through this," said Fox, with his voice breaking. "We'll find a way to get him out of this mess… I know we can make things right for him."

* * *

She had been in this place before. It was not only a place of peace and intellect, but also a place of fear and horror for her family. It was where all the children in their neighbourhood had gone to learn when they were young – it was the school that Marcus had gone to, she finally remembered. It had been so long since she had been there, it took her a bit to figure out exactly where she was until she noticed the still silence and the oddly hypnotizing ceiling lights that illuminated the place, in lieu of any windows in the hallways that she was walking in. The whole place was spotless, clean, and had plain white tiles and walls running as far as the eye could see and everything all looked so… sanitized.

This had been a good place before. For everyone, she later found out, it always works out in the beginning. The instructors lure you into their pleasant and almost gaudy friendliness as they welcomed any input or query they had about their children's future. They lured everyone in, believing that everything would go according to plan and things would be perfect.

In reality, what they really did was keep them huddled inside like a pack of animals, and then released them into the wild, making them fend for themselves and leave out in the cold.

She thought they lived in a good neighbourhood, a good planet, free from harm and crime and villains. For a good 90% of the time, there wasn't anything to worry about at all. In comparison, living amongst the scum of the galaxy meant that you were on your toes all the time and expected them to bite back at you. But when the 10% of the bad times came around, nobody expects it, and the whole world comes crashing down inside you, crushing you and killing you slowly from the inside… "There's that word again," Krystal scowled.

Krystal approached the main office and saw nobody inside but a small child, suddenly nine years old again, with more than a few bandages on his face and what looked like a bit of blood that wasn't cleaned up properly on his cheek, but from far away it could look like some dirt. Krystal could tell, though, given that she's been through a few battles of her own. This one felt no different.

She went up to the child, and hugged her son without hesitation, bringing a sense of relief. She then looked on Marcus and noticed he had a very worried face on him. It almost looked like he had gone through a battle with Andross himself. He was terrified.

Krystal rubbed some of the markings left on his cheek. It was blood, just as she suspected. She looked back on Marcus and sighed, concerned only for his safety.

"Mom," he spoke in a high, quiet, voice, "…what's gonna happen to me now?"

Krystal paused and thought for a few seconds, taken aback from the question in words that could not be explained, before simply stating, "You're safe now. You don't need to worry about this anymore. Mom's going to take care of you now."

Marcus, innocent and unaware of the outside world around him, smiled for a bit, then asked, "Mom… why do people say things will be alright when they don't mean it?"

Krystal again paused for a bit. She had to get this right, if only to make things right in her own mind.

"Sometimes," she responded, "people aren't truthful to each other and they try to cover their mistakes by… telling lies that have a bit of truth inside of them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... when people say that everything is alright, they really mean to say that everything  _will later_  be alright, but everything is  _not_  alright right at the moment. That's our job to help  _make_  things alright."

Krystal had remembered from before that there had been a bunch of bullies that didn't care much for everyone at the school, so she concluded that they had gone that extra step and beat the living hell out of her son. The thought sickened her and angered her very much, but she was certain she would fix things for Marcus.

"How do I make things right?" Marcus asked.

"The first thing you should do, Marcus," Krystal responded, "is to tell me who it was that hurt you, that beat you up like this, and let the truth come out."

Marcus then took his eyes off Krystal, shuddered, and nearly panicked as he stared off well into the distance.

Krystal turned around and saw the instructor, weary and drained, as he entered the room and glared back at Krystal, noticing the similarities between the mother and child.

All Krystal could do was read what Marcus was thinking when the instructor came into the room…

_It was him._

Krystal growled subtly, gritting her teeth in seething anger as she approached the instructor. He stood still where he was, waiting for a response from the mother.

"You…" she sneered quietly, so as to not frighten her child, "…you had no right to do this to him."

The instructor glared right back at Krystal and replied, "What makes you think that I did a right or wrong thing? Life isn't fair. He got what he deserved. He did something bad, and I punished him, like he should have been a long time ago."

"You had no RIGHT… to do that," pointing at Marcus, "to ANYONE… never mind my son…"

"The system has let many people off lightly for worse things," the instructor continued. "It's time we went and fixed this generation up. They've been getting away with everything for years."

"You're a pathetic scoundrel, and you have crossed the line…" she grunted as she figured how many children had been beaten by the instructor, "… and you will pay  _heavily_  for this."

"Who's to say I'll be punished? I'm the one in charge here. And nobody can defeat me, not even if they tried hard enough." Suddenly the instructor showed his fangs and gave a blood thirsty grin, and stated, "…you'll be the next one, if you're not careful…"

The instructor then went up near Krystal and she blocked him, doing everything she could to stop him. The world around her was shaking, and she was losing her balance, but she kept struggling against him. But then he broke free and went near Marcus, now walking back and scared beyond anything he'd ever experienced before.

Krystal then grabbed the instructor from behind and tried dragging him down, but when they should have hit the floor they both kept falling, down an endless spiral of doom as everything around them vanished, leaving nothing but the cosmos and the two of them falling downwards. Then the instructor disappeared, leaving Krystal falling helplessly, with no chance of slowing down.

She started to fade and her vision started to blur, her senses starting to lose focus and vanish. All that she could hear now was her own futile cries for help and the instructor, cackling maniacally, as she kept falling down, seemingly to no end, as fear started to settle into her brain, tearing itself apart…

She started hearing another voice. A familiar voice. At first she couldn't make it out apart from the instructor, but it kept growing louder, fighting back from the evil…

"Krystal…"

She couldn't make out who it was but it kept growing, louder and louder, against all odds…

"Krystal…"

It kept growing, defying physics. She closed her eyes, praying that this nightmare would end, for her to stop falling and to rest…

"Krystal…"

* * *

"KRYSTAL! Wake up, Krystal!"

Her eyes popped open and she saw the light of day again. Dazed and mystified, she breathed heavily and rapidly as she woke from her trance and started to take in the world around her.

The world was now back in its proper place, still, quiet, calm… normal. They were both alone, her and Fox, back at their house on Papetoon. Suddenly she was 50 again.

"Fox," she spoke, relieved that she was out of the past, and back in the present. She was breathing heavily, but was starting to slow down and collect herself. It all seemed so real, even the struggle with the instructor, as convoluted as it seemed. She knew that she never fought directly against him, or that he morphed into the monster she saw in her dream. But it was finally all over.

"You're safe now, Krystal. We're both safe," Fox assured Krystal.

"Thank heavens," Krystal sighed in reply.

The world was more still and quiet than before. It's as if nothing had happened around them the night before. Everything was back where it was, except perhaps her own sanity.

Krystal got out of the bed, short of breath, and went towards the back window of the bedroom. The school off in the distance that she was dreaming about a few minutes ago was no longer there, just as it had been for a number of years. In its place was a taller, larger, building, serving a better purpose than the school it replaced.

Fox approached Krystal, staring at the same building, and observed it quietly with Krystal. Fox didn't say anything but looked thankful that the nightmare was now over.

They went downstairs to have some breakfast. It was just before eight in the morning, way before any of them usually woke up on a day like this but it didn't matter too much to them what time they woke up. They would take each day as a present, and would make the most out of each one given to them.

Fox helped prepare the breakfast for Krystal, as she looked weary and tired from the night. They had light discussions but nothing in-depth or thought provoking. Shortly afterwards, Krystal had fallen back asleep in the living room. Fox left her there, knowing that she was getting a better rest than the night before.

Fox then went back up into the bedroom, and pulled out his communicator and pulled up old files from his childhood. He went through good memories, memories of innocence and simplicity, when he had nothing to worry about and all the joy he could have in his life.

He took a good look at one such picture. He was in there, much younger and joyful then. He had many hopes and dreams for himself then. He was much more confident then, when it seemed nothing could go wrong.

His heart sank when he saw those around him in the picture. He saw his mother and father, both of them victims of a coward and a villain. It should never have ended this way. He remembered their voices, their smiles, and could even remember when they were in his presence around him.

He then thought about Marcus, the predicament he was in, and the challenges he was going to face in the future.

Fox said to himself, "What would Dad say to me now?"


	6. Chapter 6

Marcus stood there in the Academy courtroom, facing up towards the twelve figurehead judges, trying as best as he could not to pay attention to their grim, doubtful faces. He kept quiet, not wanting to say anything that would get him into more trouble than he already was in.

"How do you plead, Mr. McCloud?" bellowed the lead judge, impatiently waiting for his answer as he frowned over him.

Marcus barely responded, not even looking up at the judge before returning back to his sulking mood, already feeling intimidated by the twelve judges on the platform.

The professor of "Citizenship 101" stood up, representing Marcus on his behalf, not wanting to keep the dreaded silence going any longer. "My client pleads not guilty, "he replied to the judges.

"Very well," grumbled the lead judge. "We can start the proceedings, then. We know that Mr. McCloud was at the alley right after his fitness class, correct? "

"Correct," the professor confirmed.

"And we know that the elderly man went up to him and asked for some money, just like he did for everyone else? "

"I wouldn't say that the vagrant did that, exactly," replied the professor. "The vagrant went up to Marcus and grabbed him, dragging him to the alley.

The judges looked at each other and nodded at the fact. "Even if that were true... what happened next was completely irresponsible. According to the elderly man, Mr. McCloud went up to him after he asked for the money, and beat him up to a pulp. The elderly man tried to free himself from Mr. McCloud's grasp, but then Mr. McCloud broke the man's wrist and knocked him down to the ground."

Marcus frowned at the judge's accusations. He glared right at the professor, already getting nervous from the proceedings of the trial, and the professor quietly cleared his throat.

"That's simply not true," said the professor, sternly. "My client is completely certain that the vagrant had a weapon, a pocket knife, on him when he went up and attacked. My client was only acting in self-defence. If you check the police report from the incident last week, you'll notice that there was a pocket knife found on the premises of the scene."

The lead judge shook his head. "You know more than anyone else, professor, that the police can't be trusted anymore! They are thugs only trying to protect criminals and thieves just like Mr. McCloud! Their reports can't be taken seriously."

"On what grounds?" shouted the professor. "We know the police report is known to be accurate. Why do you question its authenticity?"

"Because the police only serve for their own personal interests, not for the people. We have to make a stand against the police. Do you not have any more evidence? I find your lack of arguments disturbing."

"This is ridiculous," the professor grumbled to himself, putting his hand to his face.

"If there is nothing more to be said..." the judge lifted his gavel. "Then I find the accused guilty, and exclude him from the Academy until further notice. This court is adjourned."

With a slam of the gavel, Marcus' heart sank. As the judges quietly left the room, Marcus sat inside the courtroom, completely defeated inside and out.

"I'm sorry," said the professor, as he approached Marcus. "I tried what I could... but these judges were determined to find you guilty. I don't understand why they wanted you condemned."

Marcus didn't respond, as he kept looking down towards the wooden floor of the courtroom, not paying attention to what the professor was saying.

"Marcus?" the professor said. "You listening in there?"

"Why should I?" Marcus replied. "There's nothing left living for anymore. I busted my ass getting here. Now I have nowhere to go. I can't go back home, either. My dad will kill me if he sees me again."

The professor drew back, not expecting Marcus to bite back at him this way. "I don't know what to say, Marcus.."

"Then go away," Marcus snarled. "You've caused enough of a mess to me already."

The professor frowned at Marcus, completely annoyed with him. "Do you know how much I've risked representing you? My job is at stake because of this!"

"Yes, I know that," Marcus growled back. "And I thank you for it, because nobody else wanted to represent me. But please, go away... I don't know what I'm going to do with myself now."

The professor stood up, not knowing if this was going to be the last time he was going to see Marcus. "Well... if I can say something, I thought you were a good student. You deserved more than this. We can all hope that you'll be back, someday..."

As the professor left the courtroom, leaving Marcus alone inside with his own thoughts, Marcus snapped the pencil nearby him in half. "Some good that is, receiving his praise now. Where was that when I was in his class?" Marcus picked up the other half of the pencil that dropped on the floor and threw it into the wastebin nearby. "Maybe I can get out of here without anyone noticing."

Marcus went out the back door of the courtroom, went through the maze of hallways of the campus, and eventually found his way towards the front of the school. There were a few people outside, but none of them recognized Marcus as he stood outside.

"Thank God nobody's here that I know," sighed Marcus in relief. "Maybe I can find some peace and quiet for a change. Not that any of these bastards matter."

Marcus made his way towards the lakefront not far from the campus and sat down on the edge of the dock, feeling the cold and bitter breeze cooling his sweat as Marcus saw the water below him just a foot down. He stared deeply into the water, almost mesmerized by how the way the waves constantly formed and broke away, with no end in sight. He started to appreciate the simple things in life, the waves on the water, the leaves moving in the trees, the stillness and the texture of the sand on Papetoon...

"Home", Marcus thought. "I can't go home. Not after how I left. I can't go back. I have to stay here, for better or worse." He looked back at the water, still moving with the breeze. He didn't mind that he was shivering in the cool wind, as he kept deciding his fate on Corneria.

Marcus was looking for answers, even when he knew completely that he wasn't going to get any looking at the inanimate objects sitting on the dock. But he waited hopelessly, just as he was waiting before when he was looking for things to go the right way. He was waiting for someone to give him some answers that would explain everything for him, on why the galaxy was evil and why the villains always seemed to win in the end, despite what his parents did in the past.

"Marcus?" said Greg, looking confused. "Are you ok? What are you doing here on the edge of the dock?"

Marcus turned around to face Greg, almost embarrassed by his location. Nobody really sat by the dock, with it usually being too cold to do so normally. Marcus got up and shook off some of the dirt that had accumulated on his legs. "I'm fine... I guess... how did you find me?"

"Someone told me you were over here," Greg replied. "I heard about the case... did they say anything? What did they do?"

Marcus frowned as soon as the case was brought up, almost as if it had offended him right at that instant. "That's none of your business," scowled Marcus. "Just leave me alone."

Before Greg could try to convince Marcus to settle down, Marcus stormed away from Greg, pushing him softly out of the way as he left, leaving Greg back at the dock.

"Something must have happened," Greg said to himself. "I hope he didn't get into real trouble this time..."

With nothing else left to do, Marcus wandered around in the city with his own thoughts. It was filled with people like him, just as clueless as everyone else. Some were happy, others were content, but he could tell they were all angry at one thing or another. They didn't want to play in this charade of life more than anyone else. Yet he found the same thing running through everyone's minds – They were in this charade only because they didn't have much choice.

He found a decrepit building in the middle of the block between two streets in the middle of the big city. It was known for being a bit of a hideout for Academy students, given its remote location away from the place and that they could serve up just about anything you could think of. Marcus also knew that the place would be empty during the middle of the week, since everyone drank themselves away during the weekends, leaving the rest of the week for them to catch up from their slumber before returning to their remedy, repeating week in and week out, day after day.

Almost like the waves back on the dock, building and forming up, before breaking through all at once, only for them to come back again, and again and again.

The place had a few lights but they didn't bother making the place any brighter than it was. There were a few people there, but mainly older people who had other things to worry about than some punk walking into the place.

Marcus went towards the front of the bar and easily found an empty seat, getting right on it and slumping himself down on the table with his hands in his face and his eyes sunken inwards.

"Looks like you need a drink, son."

Marcus glared at the grovelling, greying bartender before looking away from him, staring blankly into space.

"People make mistakes all the time, right?" Marcus thought to himself. "Even mom and dad made mistakes when they were saving the galaxy and everything." Marcus signalled for a bottle, and the bartender went towards the dimly lit fridge, pulling out a bottle and placing it on the table next to Marcus, as if he immediately knew what drink he wanted. Marcus nodded back in reply and grabbed the bottle. "Everyone needs something to keep themselves going every now and then," Marcus said to himself.

The bottle was very non-descriptive, bland, empty, and murky. The colour of the liquid couldn't be seen very well, obscured by the thick glass. Marcus took part of his shirt and screwed the top of the bottle off with it, and looked down into the contents. It was very cloudy, giving him no more indication as to what exactly it was. He did notice the liquid swirl around a little, much like the water back at the dock again, forming up and fading out…

Marcus closed his eyes for a few seconds, and took a deep breath, thinking of all the decisions that led him to this place, at this time. Calmly but quickly, he brought the bottle up, letting the liquid fill his mouth. The fluid was cold, almost icy, and it sunk directly down his throat. It left a very bitter taste, one that made his whole body wince and judder at its presence. Yet, it almost seemed to numb his headaches in an instant, as if it were medicine. He felt the pain go away, slowly but surely, as the effects of the liquid started to kick in. Another swig was taken, and the effects got greater. With each mouthful the liquid started to spread and soothe his body, deadening his throbbing head and slowly sinking him, hypnotizing him. He drank it gradually, letting the effects sink in carefully but also to try to savour the fluid, stretching every last drop to the fullest.

Gently, Marcus felt all of his worries drift away, until he could feel nothing anymore, and was finally left in his own thoughts, away from the public, away from the prying eyes of the Academy…

Marcus was finally alone.

* * *

Night turned into day, but the day still hadn't turned any brighter from before. He was lying down on a couch, still inside the building he entered to get away from his troubles.

Marcus looked at his watch. The time was nearly 8:00am. His whole body felt achy, sore from a lack of sleep and rest. Only this time it felt a whole lot worse than before.

The bartender Marcus saw earlier came into the room, though Marcus could hardly make out the guy in full. Marcus wanted to get up and walk around for a bit to reorient himself, but he felt that doing so would only cause the aches and pains to get worse than they were. So he laid there, taking deep breaths and wondered what had happened to him.

"You doing ok there?" the bartender asked.

Marcus looked around the room for a bit before replying, "I don't know. I must have fallen asleep or something."

"That tends to happen when you have one of those bottles for the first time, son," he replied in a deep voice.

"Jeez…"

"It's been known to happen to those who try it out for the first time. I've been here a long time, and I've seen just about everyone at the Academy. All the first year students get dazed after the first time they walk in here. Though they usually come in on Fridays and let their stomachs settle for a day or two."

"What's today?" Marcus asked.

"Tuesday."

"Aw, jeez…" Marcus rolled from his back to his back, sitting up on the hard couch, as a headache started to pound at him like an anvil sitting on top of his head.

"What, you have somewhere to go?"

"Well, actually... not really," Marcus sighed. "I kinda do, but I kinda don't, either."

"Hmm. Well, you can stay around for a bit, if you need to. I don't mind."

"Thanks. I hope I was able to pay off whatever I bought, though."

"Hmm. I was surprised when you ordered a second bottle. I tried to stop you but you insisted on it. I didn't bother writing it up since I could tell this was your first rodeo, and that was actually the cheapest stuff I had for you. Also some of the weakest, as well. If you ask me, there's more valuable stuff worth your time and money in there."

Marcus smiled dryly, letting the events of the whole night sink in. He tried to think of what had happened – He remembered ordering the drink from that guy, he certainly remember drinking from it, but after that… he couldn't think of anything else he did.

"I hate to ask, but did I do anything stupid?"

"No, kid," he replied back, "the only thing you did was drink and fall asleep. Nothing too serious. I know your type, you start slowly but gradually work your way up to the good stuff. I see it happen all the time. This happens to everyone, even myself when I was younger."

The bartender was doing some cleaning around the place, if only to pass the time before night fell again. Marcus was regaining his vision as he saw a distinctive scar on the left side of his face (his right). It was hidden from the dimly lit place the day before, though it surprised Marcus that he could hide it in the darkness.

Marcus could now see some insignia around the bar, showing older badges and even a uniform from before the Republic had formed. It had faded down a bit, and it looked like it hadn't been used in years.

"I'm assuming you've been to the Academy at some point?" Marcus inquired.

"Hmm, a good guess, son," the bartender replied. "I was at the Academy, back when it was run by the Cornerians only, though I didn't do well and I dropped out. I wandered around for a bit, getting cargo jobs here and there, until I found a big mercenary team not long after the Lylat Wars. They were able to support me and we even helped out the Cornerian Army during the Aparoid Invasion. They were very good to me, helping me find a new way of living and being able to thrive in this wretched galaxy."

Marcus could only look on in wonder, stunned at the bartender's history.

"It was much more than the Army could have given me. But, eventually, Venom's enemies fell and peace was found in the galaxy, and since we mainly made our living fighting wars, there wasn't much to do anymore. So we went our separate ways, and I found this place available, so I thought that it would be a good idea to run a business here."

"Right in the middle of people trying to get away from it all, I guess," Marcus quipped.

The bartender smirked for a bit. "Precisely why I opened up a bar here."

Marcus looked around at the uniform again, trying to see if he had recognized it before. There wasn't any insignia on there, or any identification of who it was or where it came from.

"Don't bother looking for anything on that uniform, son," the bartender stated. "We didn't exactly go around the galaxy with flashy logos."

Marcus looked disappointed. He could have sworn seeing that type of uniform before, but he couldn't quite pin it down, assuming that he was having a hard time remembering what exactly it was, given his condition.

"I have to be going now. I'll be back again soon, that's for sure," Marcus smiled. "Thanks again for helping me out there."

The bartender took out a cloth and started wiping down the counter. "Don't expect me to be so generous in the future."


	7. Chapter 7

It was quite early in the morning, early enough that the sun hadn't even come up into the skies yet. It was a half hour before Clara needed to start her shift, but she only needed a cup of coffee and a small snack bar to get herself going, a small jolt of energy to get herself going before settling into reality.

The living quarters where everyone slept was windowless and was contained underground to maintain warmth, though after you got up to the main commons area, there was a circular window for people to look at and to take in the few bits of sunlight that was available to them. But for Clara, it wasn't going to happen at seven in the morning. Not that she minded, anyways.

It was now 7:15. Clara sighed and ate her small breakfast, then prepared herself for another long day, as she noticed Jenna, the long-eared pilot step out of her dorm.

"Good morning," said Clara, trying to catch Jenna's attention. Jenna didn't respond, turning away from Clara and towards the coffee machine. "Guess you're on the morning shift, then?" Clara asked, not knowing the schedules for the pilots.

Jenna got her cup of coffee and walked carefully towards Clara, cup in hand. "If this were a good morning, I'd still be fast asleep, away from the little bitches all around me."

Clara didn't dare respond, not wanting to make Jenna any more grumpy. Even with the grouchy co-workers, she would rather be here than anywhere else in the Lylat System, so Clara took some more sips of her own coffee, appreciating every last drop. She looked around the common room, being instantaneously bored of its surroundings. The only signs of life other than themselves were the sad potted plants, sitting alone in each of the corners. The whole facility was covered in basic wall plaster and stale wall to wall tiling. The whole place felt like a depressing hospital.

_Just think,_  Clara thought to herself,  _One day we'll be able to roam this planet freely, and I'll probably be richer and more well off than my parents ever were…_ She took another sip of coffee, before looking over to Jenna, who had by now guzzled down her cup and was already going back to get a second, looking much more energetic than before. Jenna then sat back down, drank some more coffee by the cupful, and let the silence fill the air for a few minutes, before finally paying attention to Clara.

"Does this place remind you of a hospital?" Jenna asked to Clara. "Like the ones you see in those depressing films?"

"I was literally thinking of the same thing!" jumped Clara. "Only it reminds me more of the ones I went to back at my home."

"Oh?" Jenna raised her eyebrow, pretending to be interested, regretting her decision to open her mouth.

"Yeah, I've been to some a few times myself…" Clara stated, scratching her head. "My brother and I got into a big argument one time, punched me so hard it just about broke my arm! I've never been so angry in my life!"

"Your brother broke your arm?" Jenna laughed. "He sounds like a bit of a dick to me."

Clara lightly chuckled, trying to carry the conversation further. "Probably… I was about ten years old at the time. We probably didn't know any better."

Jenna smirked, before returning to her cup of coffee. "Like I said…"

Silence filled the room again, each of them turning back to their own thoughts. Clara then went up to look at the schedule posted on the bulletin board, alongside a few other pointless union pamphlets that nobody bothered to read, even in boredom. She growled at her own roster on the research side, but glowed when she saw her best friend, Jonathan, booked working with Jenna for the day, as the second emergency pilot. The two ended their shifts around the same time.

_We haven't had much time together in a while,_  dreamed Clara.  _This could finally be our chance. Maybe I can sneak in the men's dorm when everyone else is asleep… better not think about that now…_

As Clara arrived at the command centre for her shift, Clara noticed Falco, standing in front of the large window there, gazing at the barren wasteland before him and the sunlight starting to rise up from the distance, lost in a world of his own. For the first time she could remember, she felt Falco was really tentative, almost as if he didn't know what laid ahead of him in the future. Even though she knew Falco often grew unsatisfied with his work, he always knew what his plans were going to be. But today, Clara felt that Falco was lost, almost looking for something to keep his drive going for the day. And unlike Jenna, this was something coffee wouldn't quickly fix.

* * *

The morning had come up to Falco almost by force, pounding him from the inside out, as he mentally prepared himself for the day ahead. He longed for the day when he would be the one defending the galaxy, risking his own hide, and proving to himself and to the rest of the Army that he meant business again.

Falco turned around and saw Clara inside the room, almost throwing him off guard. "Hi…" Falco was at a loss of words, especially so early in the morning. "Can I help you?"

Clara scratched the back of her head, feeling embarrassed at making Falco confused. "No, not really… just starting my shift now. I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Just go and do the regular checks and everything, make sure all the systems are in place," Falco sighed, as Major Chen entered the area, to the relief of Falco. "If you'll excuse me, Clara, I got to get some stuff started on my own."

"No worries," said Clara. "Thanks for the help."

Clara left to go to complete her duties, and Falco shook his head. "You're welcome, I guess," he told himself, as Clara left the room. "Some help I've been around here," Falco grumbled out of earshot.

Major Chen looked up from his paperwork and noticed Falco gazing into the void of the skies of Fichina. "What happened to you now, Falco?"

"Ever feel like you've been scaling mountains for an eternity for no purpose at all?" groaned Falco. "That's what I feel like today, quite frankly."

Chen just quickly smirked, then put his paperwork to one side. "That's a wonderful analogy… What makes you think of that?"

Falco let out a deep breath, not prepared to gush out a long story, but felt compelled to do so. "I'm just thinking about life, you know? Like, how in the hell did I get here in the first place? What I mean by that is, how did I get on this planet doing this job? I never would have guessed coming here in the first place, especially when I was on Star Fox."

Major Chen lit up his eyes in shock. "Wow, I didn't expect you to talk this deeply."

"Sorry, Chen," smiled Falco. "Maybe I'm going crazy or something. I just didn't expect to get old."

"You're not going through a mid-life crisis, are you?" asked Chen.

"I hope not," Falco sighed, rubbing his eyes. "It was just when I woke up at 4:30 this morning. I couldn't fall back asleep, and I had some extra time to myself before I started today, but all I could think of was the fact that I really screwed up a lot just to end up here in the first place. I mean, I thought I'd be better off personally and financially than I am now… not that I'd want a lot of money, but a little more would make life a bit easier… and it would get me out of this hellhole."

Chen just smirked, not wanting to disagree with Falco. "I guess that makes sense… not sure how to help you, man."

"I'm just thinking, there was something my old mentor Peppy Hare once told me," Falco continued, with Chen paying close attention. "It was shortly after the Lylat Wars, when we took out the Venomian forces. It was after the medal ceremony, and we had just left Corneria to relax by ourselves for a bit. Peppy and I were just talking, and there was something he said that I didn't really pay attention to at the time, but now I can't stop thinking about it."

"He told me," Falco said, "Remember how this day feels, and don't ever stop defending yourself for days like this.' I was too young to realize that at the time… now with the Army controlling everything in sight, not to mention all the groups trying to terrorize the Lylat System now, I can't help but think of that."

"How are you supposed to help solve that?" Chen asked Falco. "It's not like you can singlehandedly take them all down."

"I know," sighed Falco, "but what good am I staying here on Fichina? The only people here besides ourselves are the thugs we're trying to defeat. And we're supposed to terraform this planet? The thugs will just take over the planet and bring more of them here."

Chen shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know what to suggest, man. I'm pretty happy with my job here… it's nice and quiet, and much better than being at Corneria. Everyone hates you back there, and you're out of sight of management."

"Good point," replied Falco. "Maybe I am going crazy. Just something I've been thinking about, you know?"

Before Falco could continue any further, Clara ran into the room, almost in a panic. "I'm picking up enemy fighters coming directly at us," she yelled. "These guys mean business."

Falco and Major Chen practically jumped out of their chairs and rushed over towards the radar screen. Falco scanned the radar for a couple of seconds before everyone in the command centre could hear enemy jets shake up the centre, dimming the lights for a few seconds. The command centre was then peppered with laser shots coming from all sides, and the whole crew took cover underneath anything they could find – the equipment, the desks and benches, while Clara went inside one of the closets and took cover in there.

Major Chen went towards the intercom and picked up the receiver. "Jenna, Jonathan, we've got company coming in, and they're definitely not friendly! Get out there and take as many of them down while I call for more backup!"

In an instant, Jenna, the bunny, and Jonathan, the golden haired fox jumped into their Arwings and blasted off into the cold vortex, sending themselves into the abyss.

As soon as Chen was made sure the two pilots followed their orders, Chen slammed down the receiver and ran towards Falco. "I'll have to go and call in more backup - they'll listen to me more with the higher rank, anyway. Just stay here and make sure nobody gets killed."

"Sure thing, boss," Falco wearily replied. "I'll keep an eye on the radar just to make sure they're not headed towards a trap."

Meanwhile, up in the skies of Fichina, Jenna and Jonathan frantically searched the skies for the enemies that had entered into Fichina's atmosphere, only to hide down under whatever they could find - abandoned buildings, hills of snow and ice, anything that could block even the strongest radar in the galaxy.

"How on earth did the ruffians hide away so quickly?" groaned Jonathan. "It must have taken us no less than five minutes to get out here, but somehow they made it onto the planet, popping on the radar for a second, and then disappeared all over again."

"Sounds like the work of the LRM," sighed Jenna. "They're definitely after the terraforming data from the command center, that's for sure. They just want to take over the planet for their own misdeeds. It's all making me sick already."

Jenna had known what it was like to be on a planet predestined for greatness, only for it to be taken over by criminals and run into the ground due to greed and deceit. Her father worked on that planet in the early days since the terraforming, and they all even lived there for a few years. He was a four-star general and put in charge of one of the districts of the recently colonized planet.

She was very young at the time. She couldn't have been more than a year old when the planet fell apart. She vividly remembered the day her dad died, even at her young age. Every living soul, it seemed, went out on the streets and tore the whole planet apart, both in reality and in spirit. She could see the demolition of the cities, and the massive flames from the torches the masses lit.

She had seen her fair share of crime in her life. She had seen it on Venom, she had seen it on Corneria, and she was more than certainly seeing it on Fichina where she worked. All her life, she wanted to defend the galaxy against the criminals who took Venom down with them and make things fair again. For each crook she shot down, she figured that it was one less person wanting to spread their so-called "wisdom" and "beliefs" by force.

"Jenna!" screamed Jonathan on the intercom. "What are you doing loafing around? The enemies just came back on the radar!"

"Shit," Jenna replied embarrassingly. "Just had something on my mind, I guess. Let's go get them! How many are there?"

A whole formation rose over the horizon of the daylight sun, numbering into the dozens.

"Where the hell is that backup?" groaned Jenna. "We're never going to take them down by ourselves."

"Typical Republican Army stupidity," snarled Jonathan.

"Well, we may as well try and take them out," said Jenna, as she sent a charge shot into the middle of the formation, scattering it in the process, as they started firing lasers in unison at the two Arwings.

Jonathan and Jenna were barely able to dodge the attacks coming from the ruffians, as they barrel rolled their way past the attack and started drifting towards the ships which had broken from the formation.

Jenna kept fighting non-stop fought in her Arwing for at least two hours, and started to show signs of fatigue. She was missing her targets, making basic and predictable manoeuvres, and wasn't making any meaningful progress against the front. The Army wasn't doing their part to hold them off, either, finally starting to arrive in chunks.

There was someone right on Jenna's tail, chasing fiercely behind her in his ship. The criminal was shooting at her left and right, and Jenna was doing whatever she could to get out of the way, but she was flying around so recklessly she had no clue where she was going. The combination of her fatigue and the G-forces weighing down on her body was making her very weary.

"There's way too many enemies around here right now! I'll have to retreat somehow while I wait for the backup to form," Jenna barked.

"I've been told there's more on the way, Jenna," Falco replied on the other end of the radio. "I'd suggest just holding back for a bit and hiding off somewhere until they come by."

"I can't seem to find a hiding spot. I'll need to speed off somehow…" Jenna answered. She locked down the throttle down and started to climb in speed, her head now pinned against the headrest as she started to speed off away from the battles.

Her vision started to fade quickly, with her body and soul unable to keep up with the rest of the Arwing. But the enemy kept closing in despite everything she was doing to get away, responding to each and every move she was making. Slowly, the enemy behind her kept getting closer and closer, firing more and more, as the world around Jenna kept disappearing around her.

She could barely make out the voices coming out of the radio, not knowing who it was on the other side…

"Jenna… control yourself… the G-diffuser… something's wrong…"

Jenna couldn't tell who it was, and the voice was fading fast. But she couldn't slow down, as the enemy was closing in on her. She knew she was going far too fast, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't risk letting herself get defeated.

She did feel the G-diffuser go out on her. She wasn't surprised, given how much load she was putting on the Arwing, and the damage inflicted from the criminals. She thought she heard some sirens going off on the console but she couldn't really tell. She was only focused on the pilot behind her, and the narrowing field of vision in front of her, as it was slowly getting blurry and hazy, until… nothing. No light, no sound, no feeling of anything. Just… nothing.

* * *

The whole room got into a panic as Jenna's Arwing crashed out in the frozen tundra. There weren't any mountains or even a tall hill around where they crashed so her Arwing would be easy to find, but it would be easy to get shot at by anyone careful enough to finish the job and get rid of her once and for all. Time was of the essence in rescuing her.

Clara knew immediately that she was to be the one designated to go out and get an emergency shuttle over to Jenna. Jonathan was already busy enough with his share of the enemies, and out of all the researchers there, she was the one who had more experience in flying than anyone else, probably since she was the only one who showed any kind of aptitude or interest when the mandatory training sessions were going on.

Those training sessions were done out of necessity. The days of having someone like Slippy Toad bumbling around in an Arwing was long gone. You had to be a good pilot. If you weren't, you weren't working for the Republican Army. Everyone had to have some kind of flying ability to get around the planets of the Lylat System, it didn't matter where you were. This was a completely new era, unlike the other kind of era where people were separated into different camps of pilots and scientists. Today, you had to be both.

Not that this made Clara any good of a pilot. She would call herself a basic one, at that. But her mission was simple; Get Jenna out of the warzone and then get the hell out. There was no point trying to join in the fight, given Jenna's condition, but also, the shuttle Clara was flying only had the basics of weapons to simply defend themselves, and not anything that would be suitable for any type of battle.

Clara readied the shuttle, practically flying down the hangar and glossing through all the preliminary checks in the essence of time. Falco didn't necessarily mind, either. He wasn't one to judge people directly by the book, unlike others who worked in the Republican Army. He was usually someone who just wanted to get the job done as quickly as possible.

Clara got the clearance to go out at once to the wastelands of Fichina, and sped off, searching for Jenna's automatic distress signal. It was a long way off from the command centre, and Clara wasn't sure if she would reach to the signal in time. She put on full thrusters, only checking the G-diffuser before blasting off (so as to avoid a similar fate to Jenna), and scanned frantically for answers.

There was shooting and fighting going on in the distance. Clara could clearly hear the battle din as she quickly darted back and forth between the horizons in front of her and the monitors of the scanners.

"I've got a signal coming from the northeast valley," Falco stated on the radio, with his long range scanners back at the command centre.

"I'll start heading in that direction," Clara replied back swiftly. She changed course but saw a squadron of jets coming directly in her direction.

"Looks like there's a search party out there already," Clara said discouragingly.

"Fly down low, it may be harder for them to spot you," Falco responded.

Clara did what she was ordered and brought the shuttle down so that it was only a couple of meters from the ground. The area was very flat so Clara could still travel quickly while trying to sneak past the search party.

Clara could see a bit of smoke coming out from the distance. The distress signal was now directly ahead of her now. There was no doubt it was where Jenna crashed.

"Jeez, Jenna went all the way out there? I can't even see the base from out there," Clara said to herself out loud, looking around for a minute. "At least the search party didn't see us."

"Good," Falco responded. "I'll see if I can get the Army to distract the search party without getting you guys spotted.

Clara landed not far from where Jenna's Arwing had crashed, and prepared the thermal suit to protect herself from the harsh wind from the planet. She got out of the shuttle and ran towards the crash site as quickly as possible.

When she got there, the engines looked completely totaled, and the cockpit had been smashed inwards, leaving glass all over the place. Jenna was still strapped to her seat, but clearly had taken an impact to the head and was unconscious. The open cockpit let in the cold inside, leaving her face slightly frostbitten, given the time it took for Clara to get to the crash site.

Clara opened up what remained of the cockpit so as to not let any more glass in, and unbelted Jenna. She carefully pulled her up, not knowing how injured she had been, and not wanting to cause any more harm. Placing Jenna's weight on herself, Clara got Jenna back down to ground level and was able to place Jenna's arms around Clara's and lift her carefully while still remaining upright.

She wasn't far from the Arwing when Clara heard the sounds of an engine shoot past, followed by a few shots from one of the jets' lasers. It didn't hit either of the two or the Arwing, but the shockwaves threw off Clara and caused the two of them to fall on the ground, giving Jenna another scratch on the head.

Clara immediately got back up, and placed Jenna's arms around herself again, though this time Clara was quicker in returning to the shuttle, practically dragging Jenna's feet along the way. She finally got to the shuttle, putting Jenna in the rear seat and strapping her in.

More shots came from above, this time centering on the shuttle. The vibrations threw off Clara again, this time making her fall off and hit hard on the ground.

Clara felt a throbbing pain on her midsection, though it was hard to tell if she broke any of her ribs. Clara got up to her feet in necessity and started climbing the shuttle again, feeling every bone in her midsection wincing in pain. She got back to Jenna and placed a ventilator installed in the shuttle and placed it on Jenna's mouth, giving her oxygen. Clara then got back to the pilot's seat and closed the cockpit, then strapped herself in, feeling the pain again in her ribs.

Clara started up and moved out from the crash site immediately, then sped off, keeping low as she did before.

"Has the Army found the search party yet?" Clara shouted.

"Not yet," Falco replied, "they haven't had time to adjust yet. Are you hurt? I saw the fighters circle around where the distress signal was."

Clara felt around where she landed when she fell off the shuttle and grimaced when she felt a bone that wasn't supposed to be out of place.

"Yeah, I think a part of the ribs may have been broken there," Clara sighed.

"We'll get you and Jenna to the medical bay as soon as we can, Clara," Falco stated.

"Just as long as Jenna gets in first, she's in worse shape than I am," shouted Clara, as she set in the coordinates to the command centre and sped off. She continued onwards for a few minutes until she saw the command centre off in the distance, as it was surrounded by a three fighters hovering around and taking pot shots across the place.

"Dangit," Clara yelled, "do we have backup near the command centre?"

"Negative, Clara," Falco replied. "They're stuck up near the front."

Clara knew she had no choice but to attack with what little weapons she had. She slowed down slightly and charged up the main lasers, a simple single laser with little firepower. She aimed carefully and fired multiple shots at the tiny squadron. No effect. The shields simply absorbed the shuttle's tiny laser. The squadron turned into an attacking formation, readying their shots at the shuttle.

"Hang on, Jenna…"

Clara noticed one of the fighters sending off a smart bomb near them, so Clara quickly veered over to one side and tried to speed off as fast as she could. The bomb went off, and the shockwaves impacted the shuttle's shields.

"Turn off the weapons, Clara, it's the only way to reroute the power to make sure you have enough speed in the shuttle!" Falco yelled.

Clara dutifully shut off the weapons and centered the shuttle so it was facing directly at the front of the hangar. "Ok, I need you to open the hangar doors," explained Clara, "and right before I come in, close them so that they can close just as I get in!"

"While there's a huge fight going right outside our doors?" Falco shouted. "You must be crazy."

"It's the only way we can get in quickly without them getting inside as well. Falco, you're working the gates, right? Open them up while I charge right at them and wait for my word!"

"Ok…" said Falco cautiously, "though this does sound like a crazy idea…"

Clara ignored Falco and instantly darted off towards the hangar entrance. One of the fighters noticed and went in right behind her, while the other two fighters decided to fire at Clara from above. Clara was taking a few hits but her speed was able to throw off their aim for the time being.

Clara was about a kilometer from the doors, charging directly at them as they crawled open. The fighter behind Clara was now starting to catch up to her.

"Falco, there's someone right at my tail… close the gates now!"

"You sure?" Falco yelled.

"YES! Close them!"

Falco overrode the automatic program and the doors started to close inwards now. Clara wasn't sure now whether or not she would even be able to sneak in, so she started to tilt the shuttle to one side, hoping to sneak through, and pushed down the throttle as much as she could. The speed and the angle of the shuttle were making it hard to aim properly, and the shuttle was starting to shake rapidly.

Clara was near the hangar doors now, and right before she went right to them, she squirmed her eyes for a brief moment out of instinct…

She heard a metal scrape on the right side, where she had aimed it upwards, then she heard an explosion right behind her. Clara opened her eyes again and found herself through the doors, but she was running out of room between one end of the hangar to another!

She immediately reversed the thrusters and righted her shuttle level to the ground, then did whatever she could to stop the shuttle. The shuttle was now on its belly as it was creating sparks all over the hangar floor. A couple of jets got knocked out of the way of the shuttle before it came towards a wall and rammed into it, sending plaster all over the place.

Clara was still able to get out of the cockpit while being able to drag Jenna out with her, but the engine compartment of the shuttle was covered in what was the wall of the hangar, and clearly it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Jonathan radioed in to the command centre. "I'm just about out of fuel, get me in so I can land this darned thing!"

"Can't right now," Falco replied, "one of the enemies tried to get in the door and crashed right in front of it, jamming the doors!"

"Grr…" Jonathan growled. "Let me try shooting through it."

"Hold on a minute, we have a rescue shuttle still in there –"

But before Falco could finish, Jonathan started shooting right at the door with his more powerful lasers, and hit the fuel tank of the enemy jet. The tank exploded and caused the whole door to open, shaking up the whole place and throwing everybody off from their feet.

"What in the hell is going on here?" Falco screamed.

Clara and Jenna were just inside the hallway outside the hangar when the explosion occurred, and Clara was in more pain than before. Her midsection was throbbing constantly as she was limping around the place desperately trying to bring Jenna towards the sick bay.

One of the medics found the two and got a stretcher to Jenna, wheeling her away into the medical facility. Clara leaned her arm against the wall, short of breath and having a few scratches of blood of her own.

Falco was running down to the sick bay when he saw Clara, and approached her.

"You alright there? Did Jenna get to the sick bay ok?" Falco asked frantically.

"Yes, she's in there, she's badly hurt but I got her there ok," Clara said, taking short breaths. "What's our plan now?"

"Well, your friendly pilot blew up half the hangar, and it's now pretty much toast. We can still get out, even if we need to use the emergency exits if we have to. The Army will evacuate us out of here any time now."

"Evacuate?" yelled Clara. "With all the research still there?"

"It's the best we can do, we're not risking more lives down here while the ruffians blow up the whole place."

Before Clara could argue with him, her midsection screamed out at her again, leaving her cringing in pain. Falco immediately signalled a medic to get Clara, and she was helped away. As he saw Clara get attended to by the medics, Falco kept trying to think of where the ruffians got this much manpower from, or how they were able to overwhelm the usually strong Republican Army…


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing, it seemed, could go right for Marcus. He had been essentially kicked out of the Academy for merely defending himself, and was sneered at by everyone who knew about him, as he still lived in the Academy's dormitories, though he wasn't allowed to attend any classes while he was suspended. Each night he kept coming back to the same bar, spending each night in solitude before surrendering to the drink.

There was something about the drink that made him curious, almost intrigued by its power to subdue someone in an instant. He had tons of headaches in the past few days from the stress he had in the Academy and the events surrounding him as well. There was a recent attack on the terraforming research facility in Fichina, something which Marcus cared about deeply, given the planet's potential. The attack made him sicken inside, because he was convinced that someone nefarious was behind the incident, creating some kind of conspiracy. He found throughout his time at the Academy that there was always someone behind the scenes trying to think of a plot to screw over the people in the Lylat System, one way or another.

Either way, Marcus was not happy the world. All he simply wanted at the moment was to break away from it all and fix the mistakes he made in the past couple of years. He kept thinking to himself,  _I should have done better in school, I should have never gotten into that incident with that crazy man, I should have listened to my parents more, and I shouldn't have taken that position at that damn garrison on Corneria…_

Day had fallen into night, and Marcus was relieved the week was finally over. He found the place he was in all the other nights in the week, still battered up and worn down as it was before. Only this time, it had a lot more people than before.

Marcus entered in and found the front of the bar was completely full, filled with old people and smokers with more money than they could know what to do with. Some of the booths near the back were filled with people of all ages, including some people Marcus recognized from the Academy. He was seated on one of the tables around the middle, not far from the booths but still isolated from everyone around him. Marcus was in no mood to talk with anyone, so he accepted the invitation to go inside the bar from the waitress quietly greeting him at the door.

Another waitress came up to Marcus as he sat down and asked him, "Can I get you anything?" Her disinterested tone in her voice didn't make Marcus feel any better.

He could have ordered some generic bar food but wasn't in the mood to eat right now. Besides, he was nearly sick to his stomach.

"Just get me a beer," Marcus replied back.

The place was certainly busier than it was before, but it wasn't as rowdy as Marcus thought it would be at this time of day. There was a few people chatting here and there, but it wasn't completely overbearing. It was probably as good as he could have asked for on a Friday night, considering the wild stories he would hear from other people from the Academy; Cars being turned over by a few students on a drunken stupor, setting off fire alarms all across the dormitories, the list could have gone on.  _Why didn't they get punished?_ Marcus kept thinking to himself.

A young labrador walked nearby Marcus' table when was she accidentally spilled some of her beer onto his jacket, putting a stain on his right shoulder.

"Oops… my mistake," she said whimsically.

Marcus scowled as he took off his jacket and shook off as much as he could, but couldn't help but notice the foul stench that now enimated from the jacket, as well as the huge stain it left in its wake. Marcus then turned over to the woman, who looked sheepishly nervous with her beady little eyes.

"I'm sooo sorry," stuttered the woman.

Marcus sighed, placing the jacket onto the chair he was sitting on. "It's ok... I guess." Marcus could figure out from reading her mind that she was more than a bit interested in him, and definitely not in a casual way. "The coat's not worth a whole lot, so don't worry about it, ok?"

"Oh, thank goodness," she replied. "It would be… a terrible shame if it was."

"Yeah…" Marcus responded. "Sure would."

"Are you waiting for somebody tonight, mate?" she asked, giving a wink.

"Well… not really…" Marcus answered tentatively.

"I could make up for the mess I made on the coat… hmm?"

"That's not necessary," said Marcus, rolling his eyes. "Like I said, don't worry about it."

The woman started twirling her hair as she smirked at Marcus. "You know, I did kinda come here by myself tonight… Did you want to sit and chat at all?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Umm… I was also kinda busy tonight," Marcus sighed, trying to think up of an excuse.

"Oh," she said disappointingly. "I just wanted to have a good time... But, well, I come around here often, so if you want me at any time, just let me know."

Marcus chuckled, saying, "When I want to wear my beer again, trust me, you'll be the first to know." She then departed without saying anything more to each other.

Marcus sat back down, the stench of the spilt beer still reeking from his jacket. He put his arms down on the table and stared blankly in front of him, his head aching from the day. He was just about ready to fall asleep, as he was hardly getting any in the past few days.

His beer arrived without any dialogue brought between him and the waitress, and Marcus instantly opened up the bottle, took a quick sip from it, giving the liquid a taste first while still holding the bottle. Then he drank a bigger helping the next time around, getting at least two gulps in, before letting out a breath of air out and placed the bottle back down on the table, letting the medicine take effect in his body.

"Good guys never win," Marcus grumbled to himself, fully aware nobody around him was listening. "Sometimes they get lucky, but they never win. That girl back there?" Marcus groaned, turning to look where the woman who spilled his beer went. "She probably doesn't care about anyone, never mind herself. She looks too much like a fat-ass, anyways. Not my type."

Marcus noticed a grey lupine, about the same age as he was, was staring right at him with a beer in hand, unsure what to say when their eyes met.

"You got a problem?" Marcus said to the lupine, as he struggled to sit up straight.

"No," said the lupine. "I'm just waiting for someone."

Marcus drank another gulp of his beer, exhaling in satisfaction. "Care to tell me who exactly you're looking for?"

"No," sighed the lupine, "even if I knew who I was looking for."

Marcus threw up his hands in frustration. "Whatever, man, I'm just trying to draw conversation, that's all. You want to know something? Somehow there's someone behind the scenes, pulling strings we can't see, manipulating the... crowd. The population. You know what I'm talking about?"

"Sure," replied the lupine, trying his best not to fall asleep.

Marcus took yet another gulp of his beer before continuing on with his conversation. "You see, It's those who take advantage of others and cheat that win. They get the job, they get the money, and they live off their happy little lives, while leaving the rest of the population to clean up the mess they made. If you're not destroying others around you, you were the ones being destroyed by the others taking advantage of you. There's nothing in-between."

"That's rather absolute, don't you think?" replied the lupine.

"Maybe," continued Marcus, "but just think; If I ever returned to my home, I'd be a complete failure, because I went here, to Corneria, to fulfill a destiny. Now, I'm sitting here with a bunch of dumbasses, trapped in here. I can't go back, but I can't stay, either. The minimum wage just isn't enough to get by working alone."

The lupine didn't respond to Marcus, as he was staring at the tv screen in front of them, not paying attention to Marcus.

"Fine, don't listen to me," growled Marcus. "Maybe I should have talked to that fat-ass I met earlier. She was at least more interesting. Whatever, man, I don't care anymore."

Marcus growled to himself and took more sips from his bottle. He felt the fluid soak into his body, making his throbbing headache worse and yet, almost making it more bearable at the same time.

A few more people had entered the bar, but this was a bit more different. There was Greg and some of his buddies coming over for a visit. It wasn't uncommon for people from the Academy to come in on a night like this, but Marcus was almost startled by his appearance. Marcus started to shudder a little, afraid of what Greg might say to him, given what had happened in the past week.

"Marcus?" Greg said to him, shocked at his appearance. "What brings you here?"

Marcus looked over to Greg, staring at him with his bloodshot eyes. "Nothing that would interest you," he slurred. He stood up and leaned against the front of the bar with both of his hands.

"What happened to you, Marcus?" Greg asked with concern.

Marcus heard the words, but focused more on his own balance, making sure he didn't fall flat on his face. He eventually made his way back onto the chair he was sitting on before, huddling up onto the counter.

Greg brought over a chair and sat down beside Marcus. "How much have you been drinking tonight? Look, we'll talk it over, whatever it is, and we'll sort this out, alright?"

Marcus still didn't respond, staring in front of him, with one hand placed on his forehead and the other firmly holding the beer bottle.

Greg leaned closer to Marcus. "Are you ok, Marcus?"

Marcus took his hand off his head and glanced at Greg. "What do you think, then?"

Greg quickly looked at the friend that came with him into the bar with him before looking back at Marcus, and responded, "If you need to say something, just say it right now."

Marcus looked back down on the table, not paying any attention to anyone around him. He pinched his mouth and closed his eyes for a bit before opening them, revealing a glare ready to shoot down anyone in its path. "I just want to be left alone, now go away," he scowled.

Greg looked back at his buddies, as if to ask them indirectly for some kind of answer, before going back to Marcus. "Dude... I can help you. Just let me try."

"You've done enough to me already," Marcus snapped back, showing his fangs on his teeth. Marcus went up to Greg's face, grabbing his shirt and shaking him, as Marcus' body raged in anger. "Now, for the last time, Greg, get the FUCK out of here, you hear?"

One of Greg's buddies pulled Marcus from Greg and punched Marcus right in the centre of the head, toppling him over and having him fall down on the table, knocking the beer over and spilling it all over the place.

Marcus was groaning, hurt from the knockout punch, and took stock at his injuries. His face had scratches and scrapes from hitting the table, and his nose was sore and bleeding, and his jaw was throbbing all over.

He was able to slowly pick himself up as he glared at Greg and the guy who punched him in the face. "Some friends I've got, huh?"

Marcus looked back on the floor, and determined there was nothing left in the bottle. He stumbled to his beer-soaked jacket and grabbed it to put it on. "Well, I guess I'm not welcome here anymore," he snarled, licking the blood from his lips. Once he zipped up his jacket, he made his way out the door, leaving the rest of Greg's friends standing in silence.

The bartender quietly snuck behind the grey lupine and quietly spoke into his ear. "You idiot… that was the kid we talked about before you got here. You let him loose."

"Him?" the lupine shouted in disbelief. "That drunk guy? Man, he's really let himself go…"

"He's been suspended from the Academy for… some reason," replied the bartender, scratching the back of his head. "I'm not exactly sure why he was suspended, but he seems to have found this place…"

"Never mind," interrupted the grey lupine. "I'll run after him and find him again. He won't get far with that soaked jacket of his, with it being windy and cool tonight. He'd be crazy to stay outside for long."

As the grey lupine went out the front door, Greg sighed in relief. "Well, at least he went out to find him, and not me."

"At least we're not the ones trying to save that brat again, for all I care," the friend replied, holding his right hand in pain.

Greg turned back in disgust. "What the hell did you do that for, anyways? Don't you think that was overreacting a bit?"

"I didn't want him to beat you up, just like that other guy he beat up," the friend argued back.

Greg looked back at the table Marcus sat at and found the waitress looking over the spilt beer, shaking her head.

"Sorry about that, miss," Greg said. "I'll pay for the beer."

"You better," she bickered, "unless that guy is going to come back anytime soon."

"I doubt it," the friend muttered.

"Shut up, man," Greg fired back.

* * *

Marcus had been pacing through the streets of Corneria, surrounded by the tall buildings and the occasional landspeeders passing him by on the roads. It was around three in the morning, and the wind had gotten annoyingly strong, leaving Marcus freezing with nothing but his beer stained jacket to accompany him.

"Nobody cares anymore," grumbled Marcus, stumbling around the sidewalk. "It's all hopeless now. I just want to get away from this place, even if it's the last thing I do…"

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks as he approached the entrance of a bridge that he had come across from walking non-stop since he left the bar. He couldn't see straight, but even he could tell that the distance from the top of the bridge to the river below was quite far. Marcus started hyperventilating, breathing quickly in and out as he slowly moved forward, placing his hand on the side railing of the bridge.

"I can't do this anymore," Marcus shivered in the wind. "I can't go back, not to home, not to the Academy… not anywhere…"

He looked downwards to the river below the bridge, not quite making out the waves below, with only the streets lights illuminating the way. The night had taken away the serenity that the waves of water brought, but there was no doubt it was as cold and violent as ever, as he heard the waves crashing into the pillars of the bridge.

He noticed someone walking closer to him, almost out of caution. It was the same man who Marcus had talked to when he was drinking at the bar, but Marcus pretended not to notice him. He shifted his eyes on the water in front of him, biting his lips and shuddering noticeably quicker than normal.

Marcus paused for a minute and closed his eyes, his hand still firmly glued to the rail. The grey lupine still drew anxiously closer as Marcus stood still in the blaring wind.

"You're not going to jump from there, my friend," the lupine vowed.

Marcus opened his eyes and stared blankly over the horizon, not responding to the lupine. He stood completely still, waiting to take his next steps.

"I don't know what happened to you.. " the lupine continued, as if to catch Marcus' attention. "…But your life is worth more than you can realize. There's a cause worth fighting for, you just have to find it!"

Marcus turned to the man yelling at him, with a dejected look in his eye. "It's too late to change anything now," he stuttered. "I'm a lost cause… forever." His voice trailed off and he muttered a few words to himself, then let out a deep breath, before taking a nervous step towards the cement block holding the bridge railing down.

"Wait a minute!" jumped the lupine, as Marcus suddenly moved both feet towards the railing. The lupine ran towards Marcus and pulled him off the railing, sending him crashing towards the road and pavement below. Marcus struggled and tried to get away from the lupine, but he was pinned down on the ground and couldn't move.

"Let me go, you idiot!" Marcus yelled, using all of his energy to squirm away from the lupine.

The lupine didn't respond back, still holding Marcus down on the ground. Marcus kept yelling unintelligibly at the lupine, making his voice hoarser by the minute.

Suddenly, the lupine grabbed Marcus' jacket and lifted him onto his feet, bringing the two of their faces near each other. "You don't realize how much I've busted my ass to get to you. I'll tell you what – we can do this the easy way or the right way. Now, I can tell you, the easy way… is right over that bridge there."

Marcus turned towards the edge of the bridge, seeing the raging waters below, as if he had already made up his mind.

"You want to go there, do you? Well… have it your way."

The lupine dragged Marcus to the edge and brought his head over the railing, lifting up his legs as if to throw him over. Marcus slammed his eyes shut and held his breath, waiting for the waves to suck him into the abyss. He waited and waited… but nothing happened. He remained where he was, still as a board. Marcus opened his eyes, still seeing the river raging below him, rushing and crashing in an incoherent pattern, as his body was well below the edge of the bridge.

The lupine then brought Marcus down to his feet, and Marcus quickly exhaled in relief, then slid down to sit on the pavement to rest and catch his breath.

"Change your mind, then?" the lupine huffed.

Marcus kept staring into the dark skies in front of him, but slowly nodded in reply, still breathing heavily in and out.

The lupine brought Marcus back onto his feet and started walking him over out the entrance of the bridge where they came from. "Let's get out of here," he growled, catching a whiff at Marcus' rotten jacket. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

Marcus walked along with the lupine, drifting in and out of consciousness as he noticed his mouth was extremely dry, and his body started to get weak. The last thing he remembered before drifting off was the lupine wrapping his arms around him as he quietly sobbed into the lupine's shoulder…

* * *

The next thing Marcus knew, he woke up laying on a couch – again, this time, without his old jacket and wearing only his t-shirt and the battered jeans he had worn that night, only with a bit more scrapes and tears on the legs.

Marcus tried moving, but his head ached more than the last time he went unconscious, so Marcus slammed his head back onto the pillow he was resting on before, groaning in pain. His vision was blurry, but it started to get back to normal, as the lupine he met the night before started to approach Marcus.

"Hey," the lupine spoke. "How are ya?"

Marcus tried to focus onto the lupine to get a better view of the guy, but couldn't get a clear view. He shook his head and laid back down onto the pillow. "Man… I can't believe I got piss-ass drunk again…"

"What, this happened before?" the lupine chuckled.

Marcus let out a soft smile, the first time he could recall doing that in weeks. "Yeah, I was just at the same bar earlier in the week, and -" He stopped, noticing who it was in front of him. Marcus gazed suspiciously into the lupine's red eyes, recognizing it from before. "Just who are you, anyway? And how do you know me?"

"I don't, at least not on a personal level," admitted the lupine. "I only know you because we met in passing before. The bartender at the bar you were in noticed you were coming there. He notified my dad, and well… he told me to go look for you, and… here we are."

Marcus sat up onto the couch and rested his arms onto his knees, staring right at the lupine. "Hold on… just  _why_  are you looking for me in the first place?" he growled.

"To be honest?" shrugged the lupine. "I'm not too sure, I only know that my dad was looking for a couple of cargo pilots to run a new company of his, and, well… I remember him giving me this article on your recent trial, and hearing him speak constantly about you," continued the lupine, bringing out his tablet. "It had mentioned that you were doing well before the trial, and he wanted you to join his team."

Marcus shook his head in disbelief. "Why me, of all the people in the Lylat System?"

"I don't know, to be honest," sighed the lupine. "You'll have to ask him."

Marcus started to rub and slap his face softly to get him to be more alert, wiping his sleep deprived eyes. "Let me ask you again… who are you?"

"My name's Robert," said the lupine. "Don't you remember me? We were in the first year of the Academy together. You went to your placement on Corneria, and…" well, I went back to Venom. I've been living with my dad since then and…"

"Hold on," interrupted Marcus. "Robert? Is it really you? Where the hell have you been?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Robert replied. "After you joined that placement on Corneria, I went back to live with my dad on Venom."

Marcus opened and closed his eyes to regain focus on what he had just heard. "Your family comes from Venom? I thought that was just a myth. I didn't want to ask before, because… well, you know."

"Know what?" Robert asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've heard a lot of things about Venom, man," jumped Marcus. "I heard it's one of the roughest places in the whole system! Man… I sure could have needed you a few weeks ago when I was researching the planet for…" Marcus stopped himself, realizing he had gotten too excited. "Sorry," he said to Robert. "It wouldn't have mattered much, anyways. I can't imagine what it must have been like to live there, though, in the shadows of Andross."

The name alone brought a sense of dread to Marcus as if it was killing him inside. But Robert simply shrugged it off. "It's not as bad as the media makes it, actually. I had a good childhood there, if only a bit lonely. I never had many friends. You could say we moved a lot."

"Jeez," Marcus sighed. "That's terrible." Marcus kept shaking his head, if only to relieve the throbbing headache he had.

"Never mind what I did at Venom," dismissed Robert, breaking up the silence filled in the room. "My dad wants to meet with you as soon as possible."

Marcus lit up his eyes in excitement. "Wow, I guess I should meet him..." Marcus trailed off, only just realizing what had happened to him in the past few hours. "Robert... I want to thank you for saving me on that bridge there. I don't know how I could have gotten that messed up last night."

"That's ok," replied Robert. "It's the least I could do. I've seen enough dead people already, so I don't want to add another to the list."

Marcus gulped at that comment, but shrugged it off, not wanting to reduce Robert's good gesture. "Once I'm done meeting your dad, I'll see if I can ever make up for what I did."

"Don't worry about that," said Robert, picking up his bags towards his shuttlecraft outside.

Marcus stepped outside with Robert and, alongside the overcast skies, he noticed the sun was setting in the Cornerian sky. "What time is it, anyway? I've lost track of the time after I knocked myself out from all that beer."

"It's about seven in the evening, the next day," responded Robert. "You've been in and out of consciousness since then."

"Shit," Marcus groaned. "I really must have been really messed up last night." As the rain started to fall down on Marcus, he noticed he lacked his jacket from the night before. "You happen to know where my jacket went, Robert?"

Robert scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out the right words to say to Marcus. "Umm... I'm afraid that I took a good look last night at the jacket, and it was damaged beyond repair. The beer stains just couldn't come out. It's back inside, but it's really starting to smell now... The place you're going to isn't exactly the poshest place in the galaxy, but it's not quite a low-key place, you know?"

"True," sighed Marcus. "It's only that it was the first thing I bought when I first came down to Corneria when I joined the Academy. It just has more sentimental value than anything."

"Where did you come from, anyway?" asked Robert, as the two stepped inside the shuttle, away from the rain.

"Papetoon," chuckled Marcus. "Probably the furthest away from Corneria you could think of."

Robert smiled with Marcus, as he drove away from the building they were in and darted onto the neon-lit streets. "Sounds like a nice place. I've often wondered what it would take to get away from the chaos across the Lylat System."

"Living there would probably be a good start," replied Marcus. "That's how my family got there in the first place."

"Interesting," said Robert, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I might have to go there sometime, if it's really as desolate as you claim it is, I'll enjoy it there for the rest of my life!"

"As long as you don't mind being completely bored to tears," laughed Marcus.

The two went along until they found another bar, this time closer to the middle of the city, right in the middle of downtown. There were lots of people wandering the streets, some of them partying like mad, some of them drinking alcohol by the gallon, and most of the men had babes more beautiful than anything Marcus had ever seen before.

"I should have gone to this area ages ago," chuckled Marcus. "This is the high life, no doubt about that."

Robert didn't respond, instead choosing to focus his attention on the road ahead, pulling over when they reached their destination. There, Marcus found another bar, not much bigger than the one near the Academy, but much more open and maintained. Inside, wooden chairs and floors were replaced with carpets and lounge chairs, plus a giant window facing directly at the sea, though by now the rain had started to come down by the bucketloads, diminishing the view ahead. As a result, the bar wasn't as packed as it could have been. But there were still some respectable patrons inside, some wearing the finest clothes around, but others wearing polo shirts. Marcus soon felt out of place wearing his plain t-shirt and his battered jeans.

"Should I have gone in something more... standard?" asked Marcus.

"Don't bother," replied Robert. "These people just like to show off more than anything. Besides, I already told my dad what you look like. He should be in the corner over there, right by the window."

Soon enough, Marcus noticed the grey lupine patiently sitting, with an empty chair in front of him, as the techno music rumbled in the background. Marcus nervously approached the man, who looked similar to Robert, only much older, and also out of place with the rest of the patrons in the bar, wearing a similar jacket to the one the bartender Marcus met earlier in the week.

Marcus went up in front of the table the older man was sitting at, extending his arm for a handshake. "Hi... my name's Marcus McCloud, I heard you were looking for a cargo pilot, and you wanted to talk to me..." the older lupine didn't respond, staying lurking in the shadows behind him. Marcus pulled back his arm, not wanting to leave it hanging. "Hello? Were you wanting to talk to me? Your son Robert brought me over here..."

The older man brought out a lighter and a cigarette, lighting it up in plain sight, and taking in the smoke with satisfaction. Marcus was taken aback from this, knowing the familiar cigarette stench.

_I thought smoking inside bars was illegal here?_  thought Marcus. But not wanting to disgruntle the older man, Marcus said nothing about this and sat down on the chair directly across from him.

Marcus waited for a minute for the older lupine to speak, but he kept to himself, smoking his cigarette, almost stalling for time, if anything. "Excuse me," said Marcus, "but I thought you wanted to meet me as soon as possible?"

The older man nodded in reply, staying in the shadows. "You met my son, then?" he growled in a low, husky voice.

"Yeah..." Marcus replied, intimidated by the lupine's presence. "He's a nice guy. He saved my life last night."

"Wouldn't expect anything less from him," said the lupine. "Forgive me for not wanting to meet you sooner, I was tied up somewhere, and I thought I lost track of you."

"Sooner?" Marcus asked, suspiciously. "Why did you want to meet me?"

"Who did you say you were, McCloud?" the lupine asked, putting out his cigarette on the glass of water nearby. "I recognized your name right away when I heard about your trial. Sad stuff, really. But I knew that you had come from a far away planet, and that could mean only one thing." Before he said what that meant, the waiter came up and gave Marcus a drink menu, not even bothering to give one to the lupine.

"The usual, I presume?" asked the waiter to the lupine.

"Yeah," the lupine snarled. "Not sure about this punk, though."

Marcus widened his eyes in confusion at the menu, puzzled at the number of drinks available at the bar.  _There must be hundreds of drinks available!_  thought Marcus to himself. "Just get me the same as he's getting," Marcus sighed to the waiter.

"You sure about that?" the lupine barked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't take it lightly over here, and besides, I bet even the shittiest stuff here would be twice as good as the cow piss they serve near the Academy."

"I'll take my chances," Marcus stated.

The lupine stared at Marcus for a moment, before giving a light chuckle. "I like ya, kid. You're bold. See, that's why I knew you'd be a good fit. Somehow, I think that's in your genes."

Marcus leaned over on the table, staring at the lupine's purple eyes. "So why have you been following me, then? If it weren't for your son there, I would be completely creeped out by now."

"Because," started the lupine, "if you're half as good as your dad was, then you'll be a damn good pilot, that's for sure."

Marcus sat back up on his chair, leaning back onto the cushion. "What do you know about my dad, anyway?"

"We both go a long way back," explained the lupine. "We both fought in the Lylat Wars, the Aparoid Invasion, the Anglar Blitz... we've both seen a lot. Your dad's a brilliant pilot... and a cunning warrior. He even managed to beat me on a few occasions, and I'm one of the best pilots that ever flew in Lylat. I'm still one of the best today, given the shitty pilots coming out of the Academy."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Marcus out of curiosity.

"They're just afraid of what might happen if someone coming from the Academy becomes too good and takes over the Republican Army. Your dad might have very well taken over the whole universe if he wanted... which is how I've come to despise him. He had all that power, had the Army in the palm of his hands, and threw it all away. For what? So he could go and retire in solitude? Hah!" The lupine couldn't help but let out a hearty chuckle. "But like I said, piloting runs in the genes. And it would be a terrible shame to see you go and waste that potential serving in the Army. You should be thankful that they booted you out of there."

"What?" Marcus yelled. "My whole life is in ruins now! How could you say that I should be thankful?"

"Because they saw you as a threat, quite frankly," said the lupine sternly. "They knew you were going to be a powerful pilot. So they did what they could to claw you back."

"I was never really a good student there, to be honest," sighed Marcus.

"Forget about marks!" shouted the lupine. "What's important is instinct, survival, grit. It's what drives you, it's what makes you defy the odds and defeat stronger opponents. It's what keeps you alive. That's what the Academy doesn't teach you. But fighting that old man showed me that you have that instinct. Don't sell yourself short, kid. You've got something more powerful than an education, more powerful than anything someone can give you physically. It's something that you're born with."

The waiter arrived with the two glasses and gave one to each of them. It wasn't clear like the bottles Marcus had drank from earlier, but it was instead a golden colour, full of energy and life. It looked rather pleasing to Marcus, if only for a moment.

"Cheers, then," the lupine announced.

Marcus started to take a drink, but his mouth immediately began to tingle. He lowered his glass for a moment, then put it back in his mouth again, taking a slow sip. He let it go through his mouth, but gritted his teeth as it was stinging in pain inside of him, packing a full punch.

"What is this stuff, anyway?" Marcus grumbled.

"Venomian bourbon," the lupine replied. "It's the only place on Corneria where they sell this stuff."

Marcus took another sip of the bourbon, this time appreciating the sting inside his mouth. "Venom... interesting. How did you get there, anyway?"

"It's a long story," the lupine sighed, "but we formed together a team to fight against Corneria back in the Lylat Wars. That's when I first met your dad. We fought back and forth for a while, until they terraformed Venom. That's what I meant by your dad having the Army in the palm of his hand - he was directly responsible for making that planet new again! And he left it all behind. I'm just surprised he would let you join the Republican Army," he chuckled.

"I didn't..." grimaced Marcus. "I kinda left without him noticing. I think."

The lupine gave out another hearty chuckle, drinking more of the bourbon. "Jeez, you have more balls than I thought! And you think you have no instinct... Hah!"

Marcus leaned forward on the table, with a puzzled frown on his face. "Just who are you, exactly?"

The lupine was drinking from the bourbon glass, so he quietly put it down and let the liquid slowly go down his throat, cleansing it in the process. "My name... my name is Wolf O'Donnell. I know you've probably heard of that name before... so I'm not expecting you to like me."

Marcus could only look on in amazement, wondering how he ended up meeting face to face with his father's most bitter rivals.

"But I've got a plan for both of us. We both know that the government is screwed up, right? They only care about themselves. We've got to come in and make everyone equal again. Nobody gets more status than the other guy. We're all fighting for the same things over and over again, and we're not making any progress. Meanwhile, the Army keeps controlling everything, ruining people's lives every day. They certainly ruined mine. Ever since I went to Venom during the Lylat Wars they've always been on my back."

"I thought this was a cargo job?" asked Marcus. "Not that I'm complaining, I'm just... confused."

"That's just to make sure you didn't tell any of your Academy friends what you're doing, you idiot," Wolf snarled.

"I never had very many friends in the Academy," sighed Marcus.

"Even better," Wolf replied, taking another drink from his glass. "So, here's the plan - we take down the Army from within. We bomb their archive in Venom, their information bank in Titania, and then use that momentum to take over their supply depot on Macbeth, and take over that side of the Lylat System. Then, we'll have full control over half the army. All I want from you is the best damn pilot this universe has seen."

"I'll do it," stated Marcus. "I'll join your team."

Wolf let out a huge grin, showing off his large teeth. "I'm glad you're finally seeing my side of things, kid."

After a while, the two settled their bills and went over to the shuttlecraft, where Robert had been waiting for them for an hour or so.

"He's in," said Wolf to Robert. "Let's get out of this dump."

The two went inside the shuttle, and as they sat down and sped off into the night skies, Marcus let out a sigh of relief, leaning back onto the seat of the shuttle.

"Hey, Wolf?" asked Marcus.

"Yes?" Wolf was leaning on the window of the shuttle, almost getting ready to sleep.

"Thanks for helping me out," Marcus told Wolf.

"You can thank me when we've saved this universe," said Wolf, as he closed his eyes again and drifted towards sleep.

All Marcus could do was look out the window of the shuttle, staring at the Cornerian skyline as the rain was finally letting up. He wondered if this was the last time he was going to see the place in a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

Two days after Fichina had been ruthlessly attacked, Falco sat alone inside the stifling room, filled with nothing but the highest ranking officials, fighting and bickering around like children.

"We were so lucky to make it out of there alive," Falco kept saying to himself. The sharp memories of the battle remained in his mind, and Falco could do nothing but sulk in anger. "Even with all that firepower of ours, we still got beat in a fair fight with those jerks," he grumbled quietly, allowing the rest of the officers to do the speaking for him.

The injuries to Clara and Jenna remained etched in his mind, unable to calm itself. Falco hadn't seen either of them since the day of the attack, as the doctors didn't allow anybody to see them while they recovered. It haunted Falco, knowing that there were more of his workers, left helplessly at the hands of the doctors and nurses of the Republican Army.

Falco kept thinking back and forth to the people he worked with and the meeting at hand in front of him. He could see one of the grizzled Majors standing up and yelling as loud as he could, making himself noticed to everyone on the table.

"There is too much emphasis on individualism rather than teamwork and the overall mission!" the Major bellowed. "It's our duty to make sure the workers of the Republican Army are on the same page, moving in the same direction!"

The whole room nodded in agreement, following along with the Major's passionate speech. But Falco just sat there quietly, keeping to himself, biting his lips in frustration.

"Now," the Major continued, "I speak for everyone here when I say that the whole combat strategy for the last battle ended in a complete disaster. Therefore, a full review of strategic operations should be in order, including our emergency rescue plans, so that in the event the Lylat Resistance Movement tries to take us down again, we won't have to hole out in ships orbiting the planet again. We can take back what is rightfully ours. If I say so myself, I think this could have been much worse."

Falco could see Captain Meyer, the female panda, sitting across from him, sitting down and quietly observing the grizzled Major, who by now was sweating buckets, anxious from his head to his toes.

"We're just lucky that the information banks on the Fichina base hasn't been stolen," scowled Captain Meyer. "Otherwise we'd all be in bigger trouble than we are now. From what I can see, the base and the scientific equipment were completely totalled. We'll have to rebuild the hangar too, after that stunt one of your pilots pulled off there," she scolded, staring right at Falco as she finished her sentence.

"You think I'm happy about all this?" Falco frowned. "I told the pilot not to go and fit her ship in that small space when the doors were closing. I don't know why she decided to go through with her plan against orders."

The grizzled Major continued on as if nothing had happened between the two. "The damage on the planet leaves us no choice but to suspend the research there, until we can get the facility back up in working order."

Major Chen was sitting beside Falco, leaning over to Falco's ear out of the sight of the neighbouring Majors. "Just what I suspected," he whispered to Falco.

Falco didn't respond to Chen's chide remark, instead thinking intensely on finding out on the condition of his workers – especially Jenna. I haven't heard a word on her, thought Falco. It doesn't sound very promising…

As the meeting finally came to a close, Falco immediately gathered his papers and headed towards exit of the boardroom, when he was stopped by Captain Meyer, in her usual foul mood.

"I don't know where you pick your science officers from," quipped Meyer, "but try not to pick the ones that are wannabe pilots. If we had the hangar in one piece, at least we could have had a place to land the repair ships. Instead, we'll have to take twice as long to fix the damn place, given that we can't stay out in the frigid air for very long."

Falco raised his eyebrow, annoyed at Meyer's comment. "Who suddenly gave you authority to command over everyone?" he bickered.

"That's none of your business," Meyer snapped back. "I'd be a bit more careful what you do around here, before you actually get punished for your actions, Lieutenant."

"Thanks for the reminder," grumbled Falco, as he walked away from Meyer and exited the boardroom.

As he left he took notice of the rest of the officers assembled in the boardroom. Meyer was her grumpy usual self, but the rest of them were just as jolly as they came in, even with Fichina crumbling underneath their feet, blissfully unaware of everything around them. "I wish I was naïve like these guys sometimes," grumbled Falco underneath his breath.

He had that sense at one point in his life. He didn't care too much about others around him, except for those very close to him, but he remembered again of that one day that changed everything for him, when he finally understood the impact of his actions. Never again will I think so carelessly about myself, Falco kept vowing to himself, if only to comfort himself with the reality of life in front of him.

The trouble was that now he had this underlying fear of failure, a fear of doing something wrong that would cause everything to blow up in his face and ruin the lives of not only everyone around him, but the innocent civilians he helped serve as well. "At least the Army knows what they're doing in the long run," sighed Falco, as he headed towards the medical ship, far away from the bureaucrats he desperately wanted out of his life.

Just as the shuttle to the medical ship was about to leave, Major Chen managed to get inside the shuttle, right before the pilot was about to close the door shut. "Hey! Mind where you swing that door, idiot!" yelled Chen at the nervous pilot. Chen then saw Falco seated not far from the shuttle doors and sat right beside him. "Man, this day doesn't get any better!" Chen said in frustration.

"Sure thing," sighed Falco. "Some of these pilots don't know what the hell they're doing sometimes. Makes me wish I could get a chance to fly again." Falco looked out the window of the shuttle and gazed into the icy surface of Fichina, with the darkness of space lighting up the background. "Then again, I'd probably screw up anyways, so what's the point of becoming a pilot again?"

"What makes you say that?" asked Chen.

"Just that I might have been able to do something on Fichina," explained Falco. "Maybe I couldn't have prevented the damage on the base, but… I'm really concerned about Jenna, the pilot. Ever since she crashed her Arwing, I felt really bad for her. It really could have been prevented. I could have even went out and saved her. Maybe even land the damn shuttle without crashing into the hangar. We could have saved ourselves a lot of mess."

"When was the last time you actually flew a ship?" asked Chen, turning his body to face Falco.

Falco kept looking outside the window, this time staring into space. "I can't even remember… it was definitely after the Anglar Blitz. We were doing some kind of mission on Venom and… well, I don't want to talk about it right now. I've got a lot on my mind, Chen, can we talk later?"

"Sorry, Falco," replied Chen, as the shuttle stopped at the medical ship. "Let me know how Jenna is, if you get a chance. I'll see you around."

Falco went off the shuttle and went straight to the medical bay, not even stopping to see anyone along the way. At the entrance of the medical bay, Falco could see patients sitting on chairs, mattresses and anything they could get their hands on, waiting in the hallways, resting from their injuries.

"Jeez… there must have been more people injured than I thought," said Falco, shaking his head. He noticed a doctor and went towards her, as she frantically checked through her paperwork.

"Hi," jumped Falco, startling the doctor. "Can you do me a favour?"

"What's that?" asked the doctor, without taking her eyes off the papers she was shuffling through.

"There's a pilot I know that was admitted into here during the incident," sighed Falco. "I was wondering if there was any way I could see her. Her name's Jenna Grey – is she doing alright? Will she make it through?"

The doctor barely reacted, giving Falco a quick look in the eye, before turning back towards a patient lying in the hallway, removing an IV as she spoke. "Grey? She's lucky to be alive, if I'm being honest. She's got a bad contusion to the back of her head, frostbite on her face and a punctured lung from the impact. She just came to from unconsciousness today. I don't know much else, though. You shouldn't go and see her, though. It may upset you."

"Who's to say I will or won't be upset?" yelled Falco, amongst the groans and cries of the patients in the hallway. "That's not your decision to make."

Falco wanted to keep arguing with the doctor to try to convince her otherwise, but out of the corner of his eye, Falco looked inside one of the hospital rooms and saw Jenna lying in one of the beds. Falco went inside the room, not even bothering to sneak inside away from the doctor, and went right to Jenna, whether the doctors allowed him or not.

Falco saw Jenna's head wrapped up in what seemed like miles of cloth, dotted with the occasional blood stain. There were also cuts and scratches from the glass of the cockpit, and spots of blue on Jenna's face, scarred with frostbite. There was also an IV going through her body, pouring life into Jenna as she laid on the bed, surrounded by other patients recovering from their injuries.

Jenna noticed Falco standing by her bed, and slowly lifted her eyes, giving a small but warm smile, not saying anything to Falco, but appreciating his company.

"How are you feeling?" Falco asked.

"Better each day," Jenna whispered. She looked around her and glared at the nurses around her, and the IV strapped to her arm. "Did… the base survive?"

"It'll take some time before it fully gets repaired again," answered Falco. "But if I'm completely honest, I doubt the Army will put forward the money to make it happen. It's all looking uncertain at this point."

"Great," Jenna groaned quietly, so as not to disturb the other patients in the room, but also trying to show her disgust at the situation. Jenna closed her eyes again, leaning her head to one side.

"Just get some rest, Jenna. Once you're fully recovered, I'll get you up to date on everything going on at Fichina, if there are any plans, that is."

"Thanks," Jenna said softly, with a dry smile on her face.

The doctor Falco spoke to earlier entered the hospital room and scowled in disgust at Falco's presence. "Excuse me, sir, but you're not allowed in this room. We can only have certified personnel and patients here."

Falco started to make his way out of the room, not saying a word, having already seen Jenna. Before he left, Jenna opened her eyes again and tried to get Falco's attention, speaking as loud as she could, but only making out a faint growl, amidst all the other medics and doctors talking in the room. Falco didn't hear what Jenna said to him, but as Falco left the room, he stopped outside the entrance, wondering what Jenna was trying to say.

"What now?" complained the doctor. "I can't have you standing here doing nothing."

"Sorry," replied Falco. "I just have a lot on my mind. Be sure you keep Miss Grey in good shape, please?"

"I'll do my best," sighed the doctor. "But don't expect any miracles around here."

Falco left the section of the medical bay, not wanting to say anything more to the insistent doctor. He went to the other side of the medical bay, where they kept the healthier patients in. After talking to the doctors there, the doctors at the non-intensive side were more co-operative this time, and were more than happy to let Falco see Clara.

As Falco went near Clara's room, Falco could see Clara sitting up in her bed, reading through her tablet inside the windowless room, completely bored out of her own mind. Falco sensed a conviction in her mind, wanting to get out of the hospital and do something with her life, something that Falco knew all too well in his youth.

"Almost a splitting image of myself," said Falco. "Always wants to do things her own way."

Falco entered the room and Clara put down her tablet almost immediately, almost as if his presence gave her relief. "Hey, Falco," Clara chirped. "How are you? How's everything back on –"

"Clara," Falco interrupted, "I know you've been stuck here the past few days, but… I really don't want to talk about Fichina right now. I really don't."

"Sorry…" Clara replied, feeling bad for Falco. "It's just been the only thing on my mind right now."

"We'll talk about that later," continued Falco, "when you're out of the hospital. You seem to be doing a lot better than I expected."

"Yes, I'm so bored out of my mind, I can't stand it!" groaned Clara. "At least get me back to the base so I can clean up the mess I made there!"

Falco put his hand to his head, trying his best not to let his temper boil over. "Let's… move on, shall we? Can I ask something honest with you?"

"Sure," answered Clara suspiciously.

"When you joined this team, did you see yourself as a science officer, or a pilot?" Falco looked right into Clara's eyes to make sure she was paying attention.

"I joined wanting to be a science officer," answered Clara. "But if I'm honest with you, I've always had an interest in flying. Not becoming a fighter pilot like Jonathan or Jenna, but… just flying."

"Makes sense," Falco replied. He sat back in thought, trying to come up with something to add on to the conversation.

"When I was younger," continued Clara, "I always wanted to travel the universe, go exploring, if you will. Guess I got into science to try to travel at the same time."

"It's funny," chuckled Falco. "I've been all over the Lylat System, and the only place that's worth going to is Zoness. Everywhere else, there's either too much pollution left over from the wars, or too much crap going on behind the scenes."

"Interesting," said Clara. "So let me ask you something, then. What made you decide to come here?"

Falco nervously smiled briefly, before returning to his serious state. "Well… I really don't want to talk about that now. That answer could take me back years, places I don't even want to remember anymore."

"Well, never mind, then," grumbled Clara.

Falco threw his hands up in frustration. "It's getting too personal, alright? I don't mean to be dismissive; it's just… it's not something I'd just tell anybody, ok? Sorry I came by here, Clara, I didn't mean to get you riled up."

Clara sat back on her bed in disgust. "You want to know one thing? I kinda looked up to you when I was younger. I've always admired what you did in the past – that's why I wanted to fly. But after having met you, you're nothing but a wimp. You're a phony, Falco. You don't stand up to anything. Man, if I were in your position, I'd speak up a lot more around here… and I certainly wouldn't hide anything from anyone."

Falco stood up from the chair, shaking his head in anger. "Forget I said anything, then. I'll see you later." He closed the door of Clara's hospital room a little louder than he would have liked, only because of the nurses nearby turning to look where the noise came from. But Falco didn't care at this point, because he was so furious with Clara that he stormed off from the room and went towards the entrance of the hospital wing in a huff.

Falco found a coffee machine in quick order and sulked as he chugged down the cup. "Perhaps Clara may be right… but it's too late to change anything now." Falco finished the cup of coffee, and threw the paper cup into the trash bin with force. He rested his head on the wall, fuming at himself. "Why do I go through this every day?" Falco groaned quietly. "Some days I just wish I could start life all over again."


	10. Chapter 10

Marcus woke up very groggy, almost sleepwalking his way through the room and dragging himself into the bathroom, his headaches pounding him directly on the head.

He took some water and put it on his face, trying to startle himself and give himself a bit of energy, and just to see if he can wake up more quickly than the night before. No luck. His eyes were still bloodshot red, and his mouth was drier than the desert.

"How many drinks did I have last night?" said Marcus. "That stuff Wolf brought us was so good… but man, I'm so pounded right now."

Marcus shook his head briefly before turning back to the mirror, and gazed into himself, wondering how he ended up where he was right now. "Can't believe I'm actually going to work for Wolf O'Donnell, of all people…"

He had heard about Wolf O'Donnell before. He knew of the fights between Wolf and his father, and the general hatred they had towards each other. The rivalry was just about legendary, in the sense that they went towards no end trying to defeat each other. Even amongst all that, even as enemies and rivals, Wolf still saved his father's life as he was surrounded by the Aparoids during the Battle of Corneria. It was that selflessness that made the two of them truly respect each other, both professionally and mutually.

Still, after all that, it still felt strange to Marcus, being with Wolf on his ship, now working with each other. "I don't even want to know what my dad would think of this," Marcus sighed.

He had been on Wolf's ship for a few days since leaving Corneria, onboard the Amethyst, en route straight to Venom. He was nervous heading his way there, considering the rumours he heard back at the Academy.

The buzzer rang on the door to Marcus' room. Marcus grabbed a t-shirt, threw it on, and hastily opened the door to find Robert outside.

"Oh, hey there," Marcus said in relief. "Thought you were Wolf, trying to get me out of bed."

"Hardly," chuckled Robert, as he entered the room. "Just kinda bored, to be honest. We are, however, almost at Venom. Dad says that we should make landfall today."

"You said you came from Venom, right?" asked Marcus. "I know you don't like talking about Venom, but… I've never been there before."

Robert chuckled some more. "Really? I'm quite surprised. I thought the Academy would have brought you there for training."

"Ha! That's a good one!" Marcus laughed. "I find that the Academy doesn't want you going anywhere outside their own campus. The training you do get is on Corneria. I'll tell you, it's the embodiment of hell. Everyone's out to get you. Some people, they swindle you by promising jobs and financial security, and then they trick you by taking it all away. Did I tell you about my placement at Corneria?"

"No," answered Robert, sitting down on Marcus' bed, trying to keep his attention.

"Well, let me tell you something," continued Marcus. "The guy running the garrison I was at was a real piece of work. He kept bossing me around, kept yelling at me for things I didn't do… he was just a complete asshole. He was never grateful for anything I did. In fact, he wanted me gone. The last day I was there, he told me that he was glad to see me leave. And from what I'm hearing from the other people at the Academy, this was the norm, not the exception. Every single guy running the garrisons was an asshole."

"That's why my dad told me not to stay at the Academy," replied Robert.

"He did?" Marcus raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

"He went through the same things as I did at the Academy," explained Robert. "I don't think he lasted long there. I'd have to ask exactly how long, though."

"So you stayed with Wolf on Venom?" asked Marcus.

"You could say that," said Robert. "Look, I know you want to know more about Venom and all, but… there's really nothing interesting about it."

Marcus let that sit in his mind for a moment. "I know, but… growing up on Papetoon, it's basically the closest neighbours I've had. Life is pretty lonely there, and it's not like there's anyone on Titania. Plus, I keep hearing about this place, I just want to find out for myself. There's something that's drawing me, Robert – there's so much more potential on Venom. On Corneria, everything is set in stone and ruled by the elite, but on Venom, anyone can achieve what they want. At least, that's what I'm hearing."

"It's much harder than it sounds," explained Robert. "Dreams are one thing, reality is another thing entirely."

Just then, the two heard a loud thumping on the door, jolting Marcus off his bed. "Wake up, you bastard!" the two heard in a booming voice.

"I'm already up now, be patient!" Marcus yelled back, pressing the button to open the doors.

Wolf appeared on the other side, up to his gruff, usual self, though Marcus sensed that he was supressing a smile, not wanting to break his tough exterior. It startled Marcus for a bit, but he shook the feeling off, as he had been for as long as he could remember.

"You've been up for a while, then?" Wolf questioned.

"I guess so…" Marcus replied.

"Well, there's hardly any time to chat now. We're getting close to Venom now, and we should be there in a couple of hours. The two of you, come eat in the meantime."

Wolf left the room, and the doors closed themselves shut. Marcus turned to Robert, almost baffled by Wolf's behaviour. "Does he do this all the time?" he asked.

"Only when he feels like it," chuckled Robert.

After Marcus got himself properly dressed and shaved, the two got out of the room and went over to the main lounge in quick order. In the lounge was a small couch, one that could fit two people at most, a small fridge, and a counter with a various amount of items carelessly spread across.

Marcus saw Wolf sitting on a fold-up chair as he was slowly eating the breakfast for the morning. Marcus grabbed the oatmeal supplement bag on top of the fridge. There wasn't much else to eat. He tore open the bag and placed it into a bowl, and poured hot water into the bowl, making his meal.

Marcus took the bowl and brought it to the couch nearby, and sat himself down, placing the bowl on a turned over wastebin acting as a makeshift table.

The meal was still too hot to eat, so Marcus rested his eyes for a brief second.

"Don't fall asleep again on me," barked Wolf. "You're going to start your new training today."

"I know," replied Marcus, "just preparing my day. Speaking of which, what kind of simulators do you have at your base?"

"Simulators?" joked Wolf. "We don't have any."

"Oh," Marcus responded surprisingly. "Then how do we practice those manoeuvres we discussed yesterday?"

"By actually flying, dumbass," Wolf chipped back.

Marcus nodded back in agreement. "To be honest, the Academy wasn't exactly willing to give students much flying time. In actual planes, that is."

Wolf grumbled as he sipped on his cup of coffee. "I figured as much. They really don't trust anybody these days."

"I still got some flying time in," explained Marcus. "I did some cargo runs back on Corneria when I was doing my placement with the Academy. I always had to rush through the flights, and I've had some near misses, to be honest."

Wolf finished his cup of coffee and started walking towards the coffee machine for another cup. "You'll get used to that. Every day when you fly, especially here, you're faced with near death experiences. At the end of the day, you've got to think about what will happen when death stares down at your face. You have to have that ability to get rid of all the junk around you and focus on your survival. And the only way to learn that is to get into a ship yourself, flying for real."

"Makes sense," Marcus responded. "Are you planning to get started flying today?"

"Not quite," Wolf answered. "We still need to get the ships in fit order first. But from what I'm hearing from the base, it shouldn't be too far off."

"That's good," Marcus said in relief. Out of the corner of his eye he found the Evergreen Planet right outside the window, and Marcus got up to take a better look at it.

As the Amethyst descended toward the surface, Marcus saw his first glimpse of Venom, in the flesh and out of the confines of the Academy. There were green valleys and hills all across the planet, and blue-green water, though not as clear as on Corneria, it still sparkled in the sunlight. Sprinkled in between were buildings of sound structure, and looked like they were well maintained. As they got closer to the main city, more and more buildings popped up, making the planet look more like a civilized landscape than a ghetto.

"I never expected Venom to look this… industrialized," admitted Marcus.

"What did you expect?" chuckled Robert, as he overheard Marcus.

"The usual Academy propaganda," sighed Marcus. "I'd better not tell you what, exactly."

The Amethyst slowed down and finally landed near a non-descript building just outside from one of the towns. It had no identification markings on it, but it was well kept and didn't look like it was abandoned. The place was surprisingly good looking, as if it was already there waiting to be used when the planet was first fully habited.

Marcus got out of the Amethyst first, taking in a breath as soon as he could. At first, he seemed puzzled, but then smiled in relief. "The air almost feels… normal," he commented. "It's very crisp."

"We don't have the Cornerian smog around here," joked Robert, following Marcus behind him.

Marcus, Robert, and Wolf all went inside the building, and Wolf led the way, lugging his bag in his hand, as they went into the hallway between the main entrance and another set of doors. Wolf pressed the "call" button on the second set of doors and impatiently waited for a response.

" _This is Ms. Ajax of the Sterling Corporation, how may I help you?"_ the woman boomed the intercom.

"This is Will," responded Wolf while pushing on the intercom button, "requesting Alpha clearance, identification GL-001."

"That code or something?" Marcus asked.

"Ya think?" Robert chipped.

The doors clicked open and the group went in, with Wolf still carrying the heavy bag in his hands. As they entered, they neared a small desk with a computer nearby on it. The desk had looked like it had been sat in recently, but the chair behind it had moved, likely in anticipation of the visitors.

Wolf paused at the desk for a few seconds, impatiently tapping his fingers onto the desk, while Marcus and Robert waited at the back of the room, as they heard the doors they entered in close and lock shut.

A female leopard entered the room from one of the offices and saw Wolf waiting there by the desk. "Good to see you back, Wolf," she said, in the same voice as the intercom.

"Good to see you too," Wolf replied back. "I got the remainder of the stuff that we had found on Katina just a couple of weeks ago." He brought the bag on top of the desk and opened it up, revealing a bunch of silver and copper.

The woman's face lit up in excitement. "Good, this should be very helpful for the next technical upgrades," she smiled. Then she looked at the back of the room and frowned instantly. "Who came in with you?" she yelled.

Wolf looked back and saw Marcus standing beside Robert. "Don't worry about him, he's the new recruit."

The woman still didn't look convinced. "Well, if you say so…"

Marcus stepped forward nervously. "Maybe I should introduce myself –"

"We'll worry about that later," Wolf interrupted. "For now, take this to the shipyard and we'll take care of the formalities later." The woman grabbed the bag of silver and copper and went away to the elevator.

When the elevator doors closed, Marcus couldn't help but shake his head in confusion. "Who was that over there?"

"That was Michelle. She's one of the best pilots I ever saw, but she can be a little more distrustful than most people. When I first met her she was more messed up than you were. She also went through the Academy, fell through the cracks like everyone else… she was in worse shape than you when I recruited her. Taking street drugs and all that."

Marcus' eyes widened in surprise. "Jeez, I didn't know, sorry…"

Wolf went inside one of the offices and went to a combination safe where he punched in some numbers, opening the safe. Inside he grabbed a security pass and made his way back to the main area.

"Now we can get in and out without having to call in," Wolf stated. "This should get you in no problem. Robert and I had ID, but had I not called in, the alarm system would have gone off."

"How's this work?" asked Marcus instinctively.

Robert took Marcus' hand and pricked his fingertip, drawing a piece of blood. "With this, we should be able to scan exactly who you are, and get your biological identity in place. Then if someone steals your ID and gets in here, the alarm will go off, just like it normally would."

"So there's a bioscanner in there?" Marcus looked back at the doors in amazement. "That sounds hi-tech."

"You need to be," explained Wolf, "in order to stay on top in this universe. There's no sense relying on old crap to get by. Anyway, enough chit chat. We should get the rest of the stuff out of the ship now."

Marcus and Wolf returned to the ship, and Marcus helped grab bags of materials left in the cargo area of the ship. The two then returned to the main lobby without too much trouble, where Wolf set down his bag in the office and went towards the elevator. The doors to the elevator opened up, and the two quickly entered in, before the doors closed shut again. Wolf picked out a floor immediately, and the elevator shaft started to rumble around them.

They stood next to each other in silence, not sure what to say to each other. Marcus, slowly starting to recover from his alcohol-infused trance and back to his "normal" way of thinking, and tried to pry into Wolf's mind. It was very blurry, but Marcus could sense that Wolf was very stern, not really focused on any feeling or emotion.

Marcus looked away from Wolf shortly afterwards, putting his hands in his eyes and trying to refocus himself. He hadn't tried to intentionally read someone's thoughts since before he left Corneria, so his own mind was puzzled physically.  _The alcohol might wither away at this ability of mine,_  thought Marcus.  _It's never done me any good, anyways, so it's best I don't mention it to anyone, especially now._

The doors opened up, and revealed the small shipyard. Inside were two ships being services, one on either side away from the main entrance. The one on the left was being welded on, while the other simply sat without anyone around it. Marcus went towards the one on the right side, looking directly above the ship, admiring its details. It drew his attention, feeling natural to him.

"That…" he mumbled.

"That's the Wolfen," Wolf told to Marcus, standing away from the ship. "On speed, it's on par with the Arwing. In terms of handleability, I think it's much superior. Though I admit, I haven't ridden an Arwing in a while. You might adjust to the Wolfen quickly, I think."

"You rode in an Arwing?" asked Marcus.

"Some time ago. I stole one once," Wolf chuckled.

Marcus then saw the person welding the other ship again, and went closer to them. There were sparks flowing right off the ship as the copper was being fused together on the underside. Marcus then noticed the bag that Wolf first brought in the first time laying right beside the welder. He put two and two together, linking the welder with the woman he saw earlier.

"You must be Michelle, then?" Marcus asked.

The welder didn't look back as she spoke. "I guess Wolf told me about you. If you're really the new recruit, don't stay too close here. The sparks may burn your fur off."

Marcus stood back a few steps. "Sorry about that…"

"If you want to chat later, fine," Michelle said bluntly, "but right now I'm busy. I've got to make this ship all fixed up again."

Marcus went away from Michelle, letting her work on her ship, and went to the back hallway. Inside, he could see a few bunk beds, all of which were in dimly lit rooms, dark enough that Marcus couldn't tell if anyone was inside the beds or not. Further past the bunk beds was a common room, also just as dimly lit, but having a small bar at the back, filled with a half-filled supply of booze on the shelves at the wall.

Robert walked beside Marcus, having followed him through the corridor. "Like what you see so far?"

"Looks great," replied Marcus, admiring the collection on the shelves. "I have to admit, it's a lot better than I expected."

Robert set down the bag he was carrying and walked over to the other side of the bar. "The pilots here are nice guys… but they're real good as well. Don't expect them to go easy on you."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," chuckled Marcus. "The only reason why I joined this team in the first place was to be a good pilot. It's the only thing I ever imagined myself doing, quite frankly."

Before Robert could reply, Wolf walked in and saw the two of them on either side of the bar. "I see you've found the bar, Marcus," he stated. "Just as a rule, we usually don't drink until  _after_  the mission's over."

"Fair enough," Marcus replied.

"Robert, you've seen Duncan around here?" Wolf asked.

"No, dad, I haven't," he answered. "Let me see if he's still sleeping." Robert got off his chair and went towards the bunks.

Marcus watched Robert as he walked towards one of the bunk beds, grabbing a pillow along the way. Robert paused for a moment, before proceeding to throw the pillow directly at the bed. "Wake up, you son of a bitch!" he yelled.

The pillow landed right on top of the owl's head, annoying him as he turned over to his stomach. The owl then threw the pillow right back at Robert, before tearing off the bedsheets and getting himself out of the bed.

"The hell was that for?" the owl snarled.

"Wolf wants to see you," Robert replied. "It's about time you got up, anyway, it's almost the afternoon by now."

"I'll bet," the owl rumbled. He rubbed his eyes for a bit before walking back to the bar, seeing Wolf resting his back on the table, with a small grin on his face.

"Finally up from your little slumber, Duncan?" Wolf asked jokingly.

"Shut up," Duncan snarled. "What do you want?"

"We'll be doing some more training runs later tonight. If you're awake by then, we'll have the new kid here go up with us. Maybe you can give him a taste of what it's like out there in the open."

Duncan looked quietly at Marcus, before turning back to Robert, still half-asleep. "Sure thing, boss," he said dryly. He took another good look at Marcus, walking slowly towards him. "So where did this scrawny guy come from?"

"Let's just say I have a few connections here and there who knows a lot of people here and there," Wolf answered.

Duncan only smirked in response. "Let's just hope he doesn't end up like all the other hotshots I've seen around here." Duncan then made his way toward his bunk, stopping next to Wolf along the way. "Just be careful where you throw that thing next time," he said to Robert jokingly. "You're lucky it wasn't hard."

"Very funny," Robert snapped back, kicking the pillow towards Duncan as he headed back into the bunkbed. "Have fun getting your beauty rest, princess!"

Marcus could hear Duncan laughing as he made his way towards Robert, while Wolf gathered a few bottles to drink from the shelves. "Can I tell you something, Rob?"

"What's that?" Robert asked, still wearing a smirk on his face.

"This place looks really chill, man. I can't wait to go on the mission soon. And you've got just about everything here. I mean, a good place to live in, wealth, fortune… a good crew, what more could you ask for?"

"This isn't the time or place to talk about that," Robert sighed. "I wish I could explain it to you in simple words."

"Marcus?" Wolf yelled from across the bar. "Come here, let me discuss some things with you."

"I'll be right back," said Marcus to Robert. "We can talk later."

"No worries," replied Robert. "I'll be around if you need me."

Marcus sat down on a table across from where Wolf was sitting, with two drinks in front of them. "Now, we're going to get you into action as soon as we can. We'll do a training run soon, but that will only be the beginning."

"So what does that mean, exactly?" Marcus asked.

"Well, I'll tell you what I can in the next couple of hours, just how to survive out there," explained Wolf. "If you're smart, you'd better listen very carefully, pup."


	11. Chapter 11

In the narrow hallways of the airborne Republican defense platform, there was a general sense of dread and anxiety around the place. Those who dared to enter were doing so either out of necessity or simply because they were too oblivious to know what was going on. Anyone who willingly went in the meeting without setting their priorities straight would soon end up on the scrap heap, almost as quick as they started.

It was nearly 11:00 hours in the General Standard Time across the Lylat System. It had been adopted across the entire galaxy to standardize all the various time zones in an attempt to bring everyone on the same page. In truth, however, it had only made things more confusing for Captain Meyer.

First of all, she was always near the meeting rooms at just the right time, and whenever she was needed to say a few words or give a new action plan, she would promptly get herself ready in a matter of minutes and never be late. Now with the new standardized time zones, she had to adhere to a strict timeframe and often sat in the office simply waiting in agony, doing nothing. She just wished that she could get the meeting over and done with, with no further delay. That was one thing she didn't like about the Republican Army; there was too many rules and procedures. It got in the way of getting things done.

For example, there was the small matter of a former pilot named Falco Lombardi, who, according to Meyer, was someone without any sense of purpose or direction in life, washed up from his glory days. He didn't know a damn on how to take on a leadership role properly. Had she had her way, Falco would have been gone a long time ago. But the Army clearly had other plans for him, for some reason she couldn't begin to understand.

Sure, he did well for the Army during the Anglar Blitz and the Lylat Wars, but he hadn't done anything of note for years. Still, the Army kept giving him some kind of role just to appease him. First there was that training role on Katina, then the coastal job on Zoness (where she was certain Falco would stay for a long, long, time, given that he had family on there), then he bounced around Corneria for a few years before finally landing himself on Fichina, probably one of the loneliest places in the galaxy. Still, Falco had found a way to muck it all up and make everything he was involved in turn into mush.

Still they went on. "He'll do well there," they said. "He did great things for the Army," they said. "We owe him a huge gratitude of debt," they said. It was all talk for Captain Meyer.

Still, she pressed on. There was no reason for complaining, since it didn't help get things done quicker. He would be gone sooner or later. She was certain of it.

Finally one of the first Majors had decided to show up for the impromptu assembly. It was Major Thompson, one of the more respected individuals in the Army. Not that it mattered much, because the Army was still reeling from the failure on Fichina a week ago. His track record meant nothing now. Besides, she didn't tolerate much for failure.

Thompson had, at least, tried to put on a brave smile when he entered the room. Meyer clearly saw the nervousness when he looked up at her.

"How's thing's going on your end, Meyer?" he asked.

"The usual," Meyer answered sternly. "Still researching on what to do next on Fichina, of course. It's clear that we need to think very carefully on our next move."

Thompson had a puzzled look on his face. "I see, then. Don't take too long, though, we may need to take action sooner than we think."

"I'm perfectly aware of that, Thompson," Meyer barked.

Before the two could attempt to continue their conversation, the rest of the squad in charge at Fichina entered, and assembled themselves at their respective positions. The tension was rapidly rising inside the room, not knowing which direction they were going to go.

After waiting a minute Captain Meyer brought her arm out to look at her watch and checked the time. It was 11:02. She leaned forward on the table, impatiently tapping her feet, wanting to get the meeting over and done with.

Not long after, two more people came into the room; a certain Falco Lombardi, and another nameless Major. The two of them quickly sat down and began to speak sternly to each other.

"Here we are again, still figuring out what had happened last week on Fichina," Thompson began. "I know that this is going to take a while to figure out, but we have to move as quickly as possible in order to get down to action. Let's start with the strategies. What is it, Major Chen?"

The Major sitting beside Falco had his idea laid out in front of everyone. "Clearly, from what we can see here, the Republican fleet heavily outnumbered the outlaws, but yet we were beaten in the end. We focused too heavily on fighting the surrounding forces, and not enough on the pilots who split off and attacked the command centre separately. That left the two ace pilots, normally used as a last line of defence in this type of situation, all alone and defenseless. They both tried what they could but they couldn't fight forever."

The boardroom looked on in deep thought, analyzing the tactics made by the Army during the battle.

"When the rest of the fleet moved back to support the ace pilots," Major Chen continued, "it also moved the enemy forces  _forward_  as well, and coupled with the enemy pilots already around the command centre, it resulted in our lines completely collapsing around each other and giving the enemies a tactical advantage."

"I understand how we managed to get overwhelmed," commented Major Thompson. "What I don't understand is how the command centre somehow blew up by someone working with the Republican Army."

"One of the enemies followed a medical shuttle closely and managed to track them right to the hangar entrance," stated Major Chen. "The shuttle had minimal weapons and low shields, but it had good speed to get to where it needs to be quickly. However, the enemy pilot was still able to get near the shuttle as well. When the shuttle went into the hangar, and the doors closed right behind it, the enemy pilot was unable to stop or move in time and crashed into the closed doors."

"I'm aware of this already," interrupted Thompson. "What I want to know at this time is why that plan was floated around in the first place."

Major Chen quickly looked towards Falco, and Falco took a quick breath and leaned forward.

"There was a lot of stuff going on at the time," explained Falco, "but we all weren't sure of the full capabilities of the enemy jets. Even still, I could remember being unsure of the plan when it was first suggested, but they went on with it."

"So you told them not to immediately close the doors when the shuttle came in?" asked Captain Meyer.

"Yes, that's how I remember it," replied Falco.

"I'm not sure that's how I remember that," said Meyer bluntly. "When I talked to the shuttle pilot earlier this week she admitted to bringing up the idea herself. She radioed in to close the emergency doors, and they were closed on her orders. You had seniority over her, Falco, and you let yourself be ordered by her."

Falco leaned back on his chair, giving a dejected look on his face. He had told Clara not to say too much to anyone with a high-ranking position in the Army, and clearly she hadn't followed that advice too well, either by choice or by coercion from Meyer or elsewhere. He remembered what he told Clara and thought to himself, " _Oh, for the love of…"_

Before he could finish his sentence to himself, Meyer continued onward. "Needless to say, her judgment was clearly not very good in that situation," Meyer bickered.

"To be fair," Falco said, "there really wasn't much of an alternative available at the time."

"She could have waited for the rest of the Army to support her before trying to attempt a landing. Given how well the ace pilot is progressing, I'm sure she could have waited a few more minutes or so. But that's only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. I understand that you didn't really do much to the shuttle pilot in retribution for her actions. It set the terraforming project back quite a bit, given the extensive damage done to the command centre. You were really quite lenient on her. Quite frankly, you've been more than lenient for most other people."

"That's because Clara is one of the hardest working people I've ever met," said Falco defiantly. "And giving out punishments for wrong actions only makes people afraid of doing things and making decisions."

"We  _want_  them to be afraid," said Meyer. "We want them to be afraid of us, and we want to be the ones to make the decisions for them. So your point is invalid."

Falco could only place his hands on his face, clearly frustrated with himself. "When people are afraid of doing anything, never mind what you want them to do, then they won't go into battle with any confidence with themselves. I can tell you for a fact that when I was younger, when I considered myself a pilot, we made decisions and plans that we didn't like most of the time. But we did them anyways, because we knew no matter what happened, everybody would have each other's support. And I saw none of that on Fichina."

"That's what you think," snapped Meyer, "but if that's what you want to believe, then go ahead."

The whole room sat still, unsure on where to lead off next. The deafening silence was excruciating. Major Thompson bravely started the conversation again.

"We can discuss all this later. In the meantime, repair crews are on their way to get at the base. It will take some time before we can fully resume operations again. I estimate it might take six months before we can get everything back up and running again."

Falco's eyes lightened up from the mellowed mood he was in. Although the mess on Fichina was going to take some time to clean up, it meant that he was suddenly available. His mind wandered for a moment, thinking of what he could do on his free time. He could go to back to Zoness for a bit, but that would risk seeing his family again, and given how badly it had been torn apart, he didn't want to go back there. He missed that place, though. He considered going to Corneria, though he felt that place was too crowded and hectic for his liking. He thought about seeing his old friend Fox at Papetoon, but there really wasn't much there to do other than talk about old times and what not.

_No,_ he thought to himself,  _this is my opportunity to break off and do what I want to do, and get away from this place!_

Soon enough, the meeting was adjourned, and everyone got up to talk to each other in private. Once again, Falco saw the behaviour from the rest of the Majors around him, pretending that they actually gave a crap about the Army. Falco didn't stay around too long, though, as he quickly collected his stuff and went straight out the door.

Major Chen followed behind him, trying to speak to him. Falco wasn't paying much attention, however, as he was darting far away from the boardroom and into the distance. Chen managed to get close enough to tap Falco's shoulder and get him to notice.

"What do you want?" Falco barked.

"Don't feel like you need to enlighten the entire force there –"

"I don't plan to," Falco replied.

"So what was that demonstration you made there?' Chen asked.

Falco shrugged. "Who knows, but what I do know is that I'll be taking advantage of this sudden break we've been given. I might take off for a bit… I've been trying to work with these people for years. It's not for me. I still haven't figured it out after all this time."

Chen looked puzzled as he heard Falco. He pondered to himself trying to think of something to say in response, but could not come up with the words.

Falco noticed the dead silence that filled the area between them, but hardly went out of his way to change the situation. He slowly wandered away from the conversation, drifting as if he was never at the meeting in the first place… He knew right then and there that his mind was made up. There was no turning back now from what he was about to do and what he had planned for the next chapter in his life. Nobody would change his mind now.

* * *

The hospital had been familiar confines for Jenna, as she laid down on her bed, looking blankly at the ceiling in the hopes that she would get out of there, one way or another.

She sat there, wondering what she could have done differently so that she wouldn't end up stuck at the hospital. The battle on Fichina went through her mind over and over again, prying right through her soul. "If only I just got to the battle a bit sooner," cried Jenna. "I would have stopped them a lot sooner." It drove her mind crazy, as she looked for a solution that seemed impossible to find.

It reminded her of what her father, Bill Grey, had often did. She was too young to remember him, but she always admired his leadership, hearing about his deeds in the past. He always had faith in himself, not because of his hard work or his talent, but because he had confidence he was doing the right thing, both during the Lylat Wars when he fought with Fox McCloud, and up to his untimely death...

Jenna turned her head as she was laying on the side of her bed, staring into the frosty surface of Fichina, as she had already been doing for the past week. "Just once," she sighed, "I would have loved to have his advice." Jenna turned away from the window and stared blankly at the ceiling, wroth with grief. "How did I end up like this?" she cried out.

It reminded her of how she got into the Republican Army in the first place - seeing all of her friends struggling to make ends meet after graduation from the Academy. There were people she met at the Academy who came from all the corners of the galaxy, yet none of them ever got close to working with the Republican Army, never mind as an actual pilot. There were some from Venom, some from Zoness, others from Katina, Macbeth, and all the other planets that had a population. Most of all, though was the Cornerians - the epicenter of the Lylat System. But none of them had the connections Jenna had - being the daughter of not one, but two pilots - Bill Grey and Lucy Hare, daughter of Peppy.

There was a roommate Jenna had at the Academy, Victoria Pratt - who was a simple person, growing up in the middle class of Corneria. Victoria had no connections to the Army, no family who had been a pilot in the past. She barely scraped together the funds to get into the Academy in the first place, working two jobs at a time in retail just to raise the money. Victoria had the same drive Jenna had, maybe even more, and always stood by Jenna at her side, through thick and thin. Jenna warmly remembered the time somebody tried to frame Jenna for cheating on a big exam, and Victoria went through great lengths to prove that Jenna wrote the test fairly, even forgoing studying herself to make sure Jenna wasn't framed. Between her mother and the endless amount of nannies that came in and out of her childhood, Victoria felt like the only person she ever knew. Jenna smiled, perhaps in the first time since the attack, as she remembered her old friend. But this smile quickly turned into grief.

Jenna was able to quickly land a position within the Army after graduation, but because Victoria didn't do well on her exams, so she ended up not getting a full-time job anywhere, and ended up in poverty. Jenna tried to give her as much money as possible, but even that wasn't enough. On one fateful day, Victoria ended it all, in front of a train on Corneria, without a penny to her name.

Her death shook Jenna to the core, because Victoria was the only reason Jenna stayed at the Academy, through all the tough times. "Victoria was always the optimistic one," Jenna thought to herself. "She just wanted a living like I did, a way to support a family, an opportunity of a lifetime, and she worked harder than I ever did..."

When Victoria died, Jenna promised that she would never let her memory drift away, and that she would continue her legacy, one way or another. "I was just getting started here when she died," thought Jenna. "If only I could have been there to stop her killing herself... If only I helped her out for a change, gotten her a decent living... If only I could have saved the base at Fichina... If only I could meet my dad, just for one day..."

_Some saviour I am_ , Jenna reflected to herself.

Jenna looked up at the door in front of her to see Falco, still shuddering at the memories of Victoria. "If only Falco was a bit younger, he might have gone out himself and saved the damn base. He would have done it. Gramps always told me how good Star Fox was. Man, it would be amazing just to fly one mission with Falco in his prime..."*

Falco lowered himself to see eye to eye with Jenna, still lying down on her bed. "You doing ok?" he asked carefully.

Jenna wiped the tears out of her eyes, adjusting her vision to see Falco more clearly. "I'm doing fine... getting better each day."

Jenna felt like she had a million things to say to Falco, unsure where to start. But Falco also had more than a few words on his mind.

"I just got back from a meeting with the Army," sighed Falco. "I'm not sure if they're really interested in getting the base fixed up. There's too much talk in there, and no action or results."

"Tell me something I don't know," Jenna asked impulsively.

"Here's my idea, Jenna," Falco continued. "We need to somehow get that info out of Fichina, see what can be done from up above, and plan from there. We could probably get things done quicker than the Army can, if we work hard enough."

"Wait a minute," said Jenna, shaking her head. "You're not seriously considering going rogue, are you?"

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that," he quipped back. "but we do have a personal duty to get that planet terraformed, given the amount of time put into it. Quite frankly, I've had enough of the Army, they don't know what the hell they're doing. Listen, I know someone on Aquas who can get us a few ships no problem. It might cost us a bit, but just imagine if we actually got the planet terraformed. There could be tons of land just waiting to be made! The possibilities are endless.

Jenna had her eyes widened at the possibilities. "Still, if we go out of our way and go against the Army, given that Fichina's restricted and all, we'll risk getting arrested, or worse..."

"Or what?" Falco asked. "Is there too much of a difference if we went with their plans? Living like someone with no clear direction? I just want to be able to do something with my life, not act like a moron out there."

Jenna shook her head. "You can't just go out there all alone, Falco. I want to help you, but... we can't tackle the Republican Army all by ourselves."

"I've got Johnathan onboard," explained Falco, "he can provide valuable backup in case we need to fly into Fichina. Also, I'm considering bringing Clara onboard as well."

"Clara?" Jenna raised up from her bed, ignoring the stinging pain in her midsection. "As much as I'm grateful for how Clara helped me out... I doubt she'd make a good pilot."

"Who said I was going to have Clara fly?" Falco snapped back. "Besides, she has more knowledge of the planet than anyone else, even myself. And both her and Johnathan are in hot water after what happened at the hangar, so it would be better if they were out of sight of the Republican Army."

Jenna leaned back at her bed, pondering at the proposition given by Falco. "Still, that only leaves three pilots, if you include yourself. And we have no ships, Falco. The Army isn't going to give us any."

"That's true," Falco sighed. "I really don't want to go scavenging around the Flight Academy for pilots, but if I have to, I must. And besides, I've got the ships taken care of. Just sit here for now, relax, take some more time to recover, and I'll let you know when we're all ready."

"I never said I would go with you," said Jenna.

Falco sat back down, frustrated at Jenna. "What's holding you back, then?"

"I don't know..." Jenna sighed, looking away from Falco. "It just doesn't feel right."

Falco sat still for a moment before standing back up again, letting the words sink in. "Well, let me know soon, whether or not you're going. I don't have much time to waste. You never know when the Army might suddenly get rid of you if they wanted to."


	12. Chapter 12

(Three years ago...)

Inside the constrained confines of the hospital, the endless humid summers of Papetoon seemed better by comparison. Even as the sun absorbed all the energy out of anyone bold enough to walk outdoors, Clara would much rather be repairing ships than rotting inside a hospital bed.

Back on Papetoon, Clara always tried to tinker with anything she could get her hands on – electric generators, power couplings, engines… and especially anything to do with starships. Clara could recall one day when Johnathan, then a hotshot pilot for the Desert Riders, known as "study buddies" to her unsuspecting parents.

It didn't really matter what they were called to Clara, all that mattered was that the Desert Riders were the first group of people who really accepted Clara as something other than a technological geek. Her abilities were made abundantly clear when Johnathan gave Clara a broken Arwing to fix up.

"You're sure you can fix this?" asked Johnathan suspiciously.

"Of course," Clara insisted, as she assembled a bunch of tools at her side. "It'll be fun. Besides, I'd rather be here than farming myself to death back home."

Johnathan scoffed at her words. "I can't believe you would consider fixing this as 'fun.' Besides, you're my last resort – lord knows everyone else at the Desert Riders has tried to fix this pile of junk."

"Relax, just take it easy," assured Clara, as she slid down underneath the Arwing's engine. She may have been intimidated by the sheer size of the Arwing at first, but once she got used to the lack of light underneath the Arwing, she felt comfortable, out of the way of everyone who dared to get in her way.

Scanning the pieces that held the Arwing together, Clara noticed an unusual amount of rust and salt buildup on the parts. "Looks like it was stored near salt water, maybe somewhere on Corneria," said Clara quietly to herself. "The electrical components could be fried off. I just hope the circuits are mainly in one piece."

Clara opened up one of the service modules of the Arwing, revealing a vast amount of wires and circuits, which would make any average person's head spin. She quickly checked through each wire, making sure none of them were dangling loose or about to break off and fall apart. "Looks like everything's legit so far," said Clara, as she brought out the wiring diagram, one that she got from one of the Desert Riders' treasure raids. "It's lucky you found this ratty thing when you were still looking for gold, right, Johnny?"

"I still don't see how you find value in that thing," groaned Johnathan, as he could hear Clara rattle inside the Arwing. "I can't make heads or tails out of it."

"Well, I can," boasted Clara. "And I can tell already there's some wires missing where they should be. Send me some of the spare wire on the spool, I might be able to make this work."

"Might?" Johnathan chuckled. "You don't sound too convinced."

"Just watch me," said Clara, wearing a defiant grin on her face underneath the soot and oil that had come from the Arwing. She grabbed a set of wire cutters and took off a fair portion of the wire set on the spool, stringing it together easily. Clara then tied everything down, making sure it didn't pry loose. After a few minutes, Clara became satisfied with her work. "That looks pretty good, we can test the engines now." Clara then got up from beneath the Arwing and sat directly in the cockpit. "Check to see if anything comes out of the back," she ordered.

Johnathan rolled his eyes. "Sounds like a plan to me." He got behind the Arwing, standing a few feet away from the exhaust ports. Clara clicked all the switches possible on the dashboard, but nothing came to life.

"Not working, Clara?" asked Johnathan.

"Be patient," snarled Clara, frustrated at the controls. She flipped a few other switches before jumping out of the cockpit and onto the hard ground below. "I just need to make a couple more adjustments, it won't be too much longer."

After more fiddling at the wires, Clara returned to the cockpit, as Johnathan scanned the back of the Arwing. "It doesn't look all that different than it did before it got here. Man, I really wish this thing would work."

Clara looked at the wiring diagram again, noticing a list of instructions at the side. It was written in a different language, but there a few symbols which looked very similar to ones that were on the dashboard. She flicked the switches on the dashboard in the order listed on the diagram - first the initial ignition switch, then the booster and the g-diffuser (not that she thought it would work, given its age), and then the 'release' switch, which basically kept the Arwing glued to the ground. Finally, there was the 'power' switch, which was self-explanatory for even the dumbest pilot around. As soon as Clara flicked the switch, the engines fired right up and the Arwing lifted off the ground, sending nearby objects flying all over the place.

Johnathan was nearby the Arwing when he saw it float off the ground, startling him as he moved backwards against the wall. "What the heck, Clara! Let me know before you fire the engines up!"

Clara couldn't hear over the blaring engines in the background, as she nervously took the controls of the ship, grasping it with all her strength, as she sped past the open garage door in front of her, and blasted off into the distant sky.

Johnathan squinted in awe as he rushed outside searching for Clara, as she got further and further away. "She's better than I thought at fixing that piece of junk up…"

Meanwhile, up at the Arwing, Clara was soaking in the view above everyone at the warehouse, and enjoying the ride with it, even if she was being roasted inside the cockpit in the Papetoon heat. She loved this feeling of flying high more than anything she had enjoyed her entire life, and didn't want to settle for anything less now. If she were to ride on speedbikes or anything else on the ground, it wouldn't compare to pure flight. It felt completely natural to Clara.

Clara looked outside the cockpit, admiring everything she could see around her; the endless desert valleys painting the skies, the occasional building peppered here and there on the ground, her house near the crops…

The thought of home immediately sunk deep into Clara's mind. "I hope Dad doesn't notice the Arwing flying above."

But down on ground level, the noise of the Arwing's engines blasted through the otherwise still lands, causing Fox to run out of the house in a panic. Krystal ran out with him, and he stared into the sky. Krystal gently tugged his hand to bring him back inside. Fox reluctantly obliged, but he still stared up at the clouds, anxious of the Arwing. "I don't want more of them to come here," he growled.

Back inside the Arwing, the searing heat inside the cockpit distracted Clara from the fact that the engine was blowing hot smoke outside. The stress and force laid on the engine was making all sorts of squealing as well, but Clara didn't mind – she thought it was all part of how the engines worked. "This thing probably hasn't run in years," she said, relishing every moment inside the Arwing.

Clara suddenly felt the Arwing shake and vibrate, and Clara turned back to see the thick smoke that was building up in volume. The Arwing then started to lose power completely, even on the dashboard. The smoke coming out of the Arwing was growing faster and faster as Clara desperately searched for a safe place to land while wrestling with the controls as the Arwing's altitude started plummeting, but all she saw was rocky terrain, not even a short road to land on.

The engine started to sputter and stall, and Clara immediately spotted an area with a few rocks. "It's not ideal, but it'll do," she stuttered, nervously wrestling with the controls. The Arwing kept sinking faster and faster, as the hydraulics of the ship gave out, forcing Clara to practically swerve the controls just to keep the ship level to the ground. She let the Arwing drop flat, as the landing gears failed to deploy, and she instantly felt the ship grind away at the rocks and dirt. Clara noticed a divot directly ahead of her, and braced for impact, holding her hands firmly to the controls. Ultimately, the Arwing dropped into the divot, sending Clara forward as she hit face first onto the dashboard.

Once she was certain the Arwing was fully stopped, Clara wiped away the blood from the front of her forehead. "This can't be any good," Clara sighed. She leaned back on her seat and kicked the glass of the cockpit away, sending it flying away from the crashsite. Clara carefully got up from the seat and jumped down to the ground below, feeling the landing vibrate every bone in her body, wincing from the painful landing.

Clara could see the sun blaring down on her, as the humid air made the ground appear oily in the distance. She dragged her feet onto the ground as she struggled to get away from the burning wreckage of the Arwing, feeling the heat from both the sun and the fire behind her. Suddenly, she felt an explosion from behind her, and she was thrown forward and away from the wreckage, falling into the dirt.

For a few minutes, Clara lay still, breathing heavily but otherwise alive, keeping her head down in case the Arwing exploded again. But after a while, Clara heard a vehicle roaring around and approaching the wreckage, getting louder by the minute. Clara struggled to her feet and waved down the vehicle, before figuring out exactly who it was that was driving the vehicle, and put her hand down.

Clara stumbled closer to the vehicle, even as it ran closer and closer to her. She squinted to make sure she was seeing who she thought she was seeing. As the man got out of the vehicle, it became abundantly clear who it was. "Marcus?"

Marcus stared directly at Clara, noticing the blood and the dirt spread all over her body. "What are you doing here?"

"None of your business," snarled Clara. She took another look at one of her hands and saw that it, too, was bleeding. "Just get me out of here," she growled to Marcus.

As Clara started to hobble her way towards the vehicle, she briefly felt faint and fell into Marcus as he caught her before she hit the ground again. Marcus was able to bring Clara into the back seat of the vehicle, before jumping into the drivers' seat. "I'll take you back home as soon as I can," he declared.

"No, DON'T do that, for fucks sake," snapped Clara. "I don't want mom or dad figuring out about this, you hear? They'll kill me if they find out."

Marcus hastily started the vehicle and drove away from the wreckage, not caring about the dirt being kicked into the seats. "Where else am I supposed to go, then? I'm not going to leave you bleeding like this."

"There's a warehouse not far from here," explained Clara. "Just take me there and I'll fix myself up."

Clara gave the directions to the warehouse as she laid in the back seat bleeding, while Marcus sat there listening to the directions, not even saying a word in reply. Mercifully, after what seemed like an eternity, the two arrived at the warehouse, and Johnathan, waiting for Clara outside, ran towards the vehicle, anticipating the worst.

Marcus jumped out of the vehicle, again, not saying a word, as he walked with Clara towards Johnathan.

"Thank God you're ok, Clara," yelled Johnathan. "When you didn't get back, I thought something had happened…"

Marcus started following Clara as she was being helped by Johnathan into the warehouse. "Do you… want me to tell Dad that you're ok?"

"I told you," snapped Clara, "Don't even dare mention this to mom or dad, you hear?"

"But what if they ask where –"

"Forget it!" Clara hobbled off in a huff, not caring how much blood was coming out of her body.

Johnathan quickly brought Clara inside and laid her on a bed, and after administering bandages across her face and arms, most of the bleeding had subsided, and Clara was calming down from the trauma of the crash. Eventually, Johnathan felt able to approach Clara without fear of being yelled back again.

"Clara, Johnathan began, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Clara opened her eyes and looked at Johnathan directly in the eyes. "What do you mean, exactly? I have a feeling it's not going to be good news."

"It depends on how you look at it," Johnathan sighed. "I was just thinking about how you fixed up that Arwing all nice, right? I was really impressed by that. Truly, I was."

"Johnny," replied Clara, "I didn't fix the Arwing. I crashed it because I didn't fix it properly."

"That was my fault," said Johnathan. "There was hardly any fuel in it. I thought you were going to power it up first, and then wait for a bit before I put in some fuel. But you sped off right away, and I panicked. That was my mistake."

Clara's face nearly turned red in anger. "How could you do that to me? I could have died out there! Besides, I should have figured that out… I should have fixed the fuel gauge first before I flew off. I was just so stupid!"

Johnathan nearly begged to get Clara to calm down. "Clara… you're not stupid. In fact, you're probably one of the smartest people I know. You're much smarter than anyone on the Desert Riders. Truly, you are! Don't sell yourself short, Clara. You can do more than you can imagine out of this planet!"

"What are you implying?" asked Clara.

Johnathan leaned forward on his chair, in a serious tone Clara had never seen before from Johnathan. "Come with me to Corneria, Clara. Come with me, so we can be together, live together, and get ourselves out of this planet. We can become richer than anyone else on Papetoon, Clara. You have the smarts, and I have the strength to join the Flight Academy. We can be with each other forever."

Clara's eyes lit up in shock. She sat there, stunned in silence, at a loss for words.

Johnathan noticed this and leaned back on his chair, attempting to relieve the tension he brought on Clara. "Look, we've been with each other for two years, at least. I know by now that your father doesn't want you leave. Listen, if we get ourselves out of this planet, you can get away from your parents, and I can get to the Flight Academy. And besides, it'll be fun. Trust me."

Clara saw the confidence in Johnathan's eyes, and pondered for a moment on what Johnathan said. "I know I can't stay here forever, but… I still love my parents. I just can't get up and leave them behind and abandon them here."

"I'll think of an excuse for them," Johnathan replied, giving an assuring smile. "Just think, we can be together, just like you always wanted." Johnathan put his hand on Clara's face, feeling her heavy breaths as the realization that she was about to leave the planet came to her. "Nothing can hold us back, Clara. This is our destiny to be together."

* * *

(Present day...)

Fox lied on his back, staring into the distance of the humid summer night on Papetoon, with the wheat crops breezing in the wind being the only company around him. Nobody could find him - not even Krystal. Fox was all alone, quiet as a stone. He couldn't think of anything but the number of stars he could count in the sky, far more than he had ever realized before.

_"How can I be responsible for defending every single star out there?"_  Fox kept thinking to himself. The seething thought kept penetrating into his mind Just as it was about to slip away forever, it would keep coming back to haunt him. Each time, Fox retreated back to safety, distant and alone in the fields.

"Why couldn't I have done things differently for my children? Why couldn't I be a better husband, or a better father?" Fox laid there, basking in his own doubt. "What did I do to become such a failure?"

Fox heard some noises coming from the distance, as if someone was calling him. Fox sprung up and got up to his feet. "Oh no..." he said, wiping off the sweat from his forehead.

He looked around, searching for where the voice was coming from. His ears perked up, scanning each corner of the fields. As his senses starting coming to, he heard more and more who was calling.

"Fox? Where are you?" Krystal's familiar calls rang out in the dark sky, rapidly increasing his heartbeat. In an instant, they stood in front of each other from a distance, their eyes meeting directly. Fox slowly moved forward, heavily breathing in and out. Soon, they stood directly in front of one another, gazing into each other's eyes.

Krystal laid her hand on Fox's bruised shoulder. "Are you ok, Fox?"

Fox took a deep breath, holding Krystal's hand off his shoulder. "Yes... I'm better." The two held hands in front of each other, letting the calm silence fill the air. "Listen... I'm sorry I got mad and ran off again..."

"It's ok," sighed Krystal. "Everything's fine now." Their two heads slowly met with each other, each of them letting them hold each other in their arms. "It's too hot and dark out here, Fox. Let's get back inside."

"Ok," Fox replied. "Slowly."

Krystal touched the side of Fox's face with her hand, feeling the contours of his half-grown stubble. The two then started back holding hands towards their house, a distant way from where they were in the fields.

Eventually, they found their way back at the house, as Fox's head pounded inside and out. The two found their way into bed, wearing the same things they were wearing outside, not even bothering to change. Fox let the comfortable silence fill the air, soothing his mind. Krystal quickly fell asleep, but as soon Fox started to drift off on his own, his mind started to wander again.

Inside his mind, a war raged on, with the night serving as a stage for the action. Fox looked outside the window towards the stars in the background and figured they might as well be fighter pilots, chasing each other down. Fox could have sworn one of the stars was about to break apart and disappear from the sky without a trace. It was the brightest one out there, easy to spot out from the rest. Fox wanted to bring himself away from focusing on the stars, but he couldn't help but look on in agony, waiting for the star to switch off and confirm his gut feeling. He could wait all night if he had to, just to make sure that it survived to the morning.

Fox got out of the bed and went towards the deck, staring at the stars. Krystal noticed Fox leaving and walked behind him, seeing him gaze on the night horizon.

"You're worried about Clara and Marcus, aren't you?" Krystal asked.

"Yeah…" Fox leaned down on the wooden railing of the deck. "I just can't get them out of my mind. I miss them so much." Krystal could tell Fox was close to tears. "I should have never let them go."

Krystal wrapped her arm around Fox's solemn shoulder. "I miss them too… I have to admit, I got really worried since Clara's base got attacked. And I haven't heard from Marcus since he left the Academy. I don't know what to do." Krystal then noticed the stench of alcohol coming from Fox, and immediately turned to him. "Why do you keep drinking when you're sad?"

Fox looked away from Krystal, feeling embarrassed at himself. "I don't know any other way to cope. You'd think after knowing me all these years, you would have figured that out by now."

Krystal didn't reply, instead sulking at herself for bringing up the subject. Scanning Fox's mind, she knew he was preoccupied with Marcus and Clara, the thoughts never leaving his mind. "I want the kids back too, Fox, but… can we think about this in the morning? We're all tired. I just want a clear mind before we do anything rash."

"I know…" grumbled Fox. "I just can't get them out of my mind, no matter what I do. I feel like a complete failure for letting them go away like this." He turned his head towards Krystal, making her unsettled as he started to boil over. "I should have known not to trust you in letting them leave home. Now they'll never come back."

Krystal tried her best not to let Fox's drunken state of terror get the better of her, but Krystal could tell that Fox was aware of the backlash he was saying to her. "How can you say that about me, Fox? I've always loved you and I've always loved our children. I can't believe you could even question my love for all of you. I've done just about everything for them, and did everything you wanted me to!"

"Then why didn't you stop Clara and Marcus from leaving the planet?" asked Fox.

Krystal fumed up inside, almost ready to burst a blood vessel. "Fox, I just hate it when you act like I'm some kind of idiot. You're always blaming me for everything that goes wrong in our lives!"

Fox got up to Krystal's face, close enough that she could taste his alcohol-stained breath. "Maybe you should realize how much of an idiot you've been all this time! I'm always having to fix the mess you keep creating…" Fox huffed away from Krystal, as she let his seething words absorb into her mind. He got a few meters away from Krystal when he kicked away a can in disgust, sitting himself down on the cold, hard ground, and writhing in anger.

Krystal bravely stepped closer to Fox as he sat still on the ground, carefully not making a single sound, still staying alert and mentally preparing herself to bolt away at a moment's notice. She took a few deep breaths, as her mouth was dry from yelling close to the top of her lungs, while her teeth were sharpening by the minute in rage.

"I'm sick and tired of your insane outbursts, Fox." Krystal took another couple of deep breaths, preparing herself for the worst. "I can't babysit you forever like this. You need to get help. Really serious help, Fox. Every night you're drinking your guts away, and then you turn into this… monster. I'm sick of seeing you like this."

Fox didn't respond, not listening to Krystal's words. All he was thinking about was his next drink, his next bit of medicine to wash away his worries for the night.

"Fox… you can't keep going on like this. I've done all I can. Either you can get help, or I won't be able to be there for you anymore."

"Then go," Fox slurred with no hesitation in his mind. "Go away, and leave me alone. Don't even think about coming back. There's no reason for us to be together anymore… Our lives are all ruined now."

Krystal was taken aback by Fox's slander, but she felt compelled to back away slowly from Fox, both in fear and in disgust, as he continued to seethe in rage. There were a choice number of words that she noticed popping into Fox's head that she never would have imagined she would receive from the man she once knew was her husband. She tried to filter out the words out of her mind, but they kept returning back, assaulting her at every opportunity it could.

Krystal left Fox alone in the fields, just as he wanted her to. "That's the last thing I do for you," she vowed quietly to herself. In that moment, she supressed her upper lip, not wanting to break down as she often did a hundred other times before. But she turned away from Fox, slowly walking back into the house in the middle of the fields, sealing her eyes and mouth completely shut. "I'm not going to cry," she kept thinking to herself. "Not like tonight. Not like this."

She soon slowly rummaged through her items and solemnly gathered what she could, periodically checking if Fox was still sitting alone in the fields. After a half hour of this, she mad her way outside into the landspeeder they owned, and got into the driver's seat. Before she powered up the engines, she paused suddenly, noticing her muscles tensing up around all the parts of her body. All that she could think about at that time was what normally happened next.

"This is when he comes out and forgives me for everything I've done," Krystal said quietly to herself. She looked around the landspeeder and found nobody in sight, not even a bug crawling around. The nighttime sat still in the air, not making a single sound.

"All that I did in my life… all gone to waste." She suppressed her eyes again, forcing her tears back in her body. "I'll find Clara and Marcus for him, if that's all he wants. I'll do whatever it takes to find them again and bring them back here. If that's the one thing that will make him happy, so be it."

She started up the electric engines of the landspeeder, being careful to leave as quietly as humanly possible. "If he isn't happy… then I can show the two just how much of a wasteful man he is."

It soon became apparent to Fox that he returned back to consciousness when he opened his eyes and immediately spat out the dirt that had gotten in his mouth. Fox rolled onto his knees and slowly brought himself to his feet, aching from every muscle that was conceivable. Fox writhed in pain as his back and neck tensed up to the tenth degree, piercing his soul through his spine.

Fox started shivering as he began hearing the familiar cicadas blaring in the distance, with his eyes soggy and his breath short and weak. His breath started to settle down, but it was still visibly hard and short. Fox closed his eyes and took another few short breaths, feeling the pools of sweat forming on his forehead. Eventually, Fox found the courage to walk up to his house again.

Inside, the house felt cold and dark, feeling as if he was trapped inside, seeing the beams of light break through the windows. Fox took a quick drink of water, gulping more with each sip, and wanting for more each time. At that moment, Fox couldn't help but notice that for the first time in what seemed like years, he didn't feel like he was constantly being watched, having someone peer into his mind at every moment. It suddenly dawned on him what had happened the previous night.

In a panic, Fox ran upstairs to the bedroom, dreading the emptiness inside. One half of the room was completely fine, other side was nearly stripped bare, devoid of any evidence someone had lived there before. Fox could only stand in shock as his sobering mind started to awaken.

Out of the corner of his eye, he found a gemstone the size of his palm sitting on the dresser, directly below a mirror. It was the same gemstone that he had given to Krystal, right after they married. It was just as bright and colorful as the day he gave it to her, still reflecting his wretched face on the surface.

Fox held the gemstone in his hand, slowly but surely grasping it as the realization of what happened last night came into his mind. He threw the gemstone right at the mirror, smashing the mirror into a million pieces, letting each shard fall down onto the wooden floor.


	13. Chapter 13

On the outskirts of Venom's atmosphere, the Star Wolf team had taken every last resource they could from an abandoned cruise ship that had been floating off in space, rusted nearly to pieces but still salvageable for the team.

"The copper inside the ship should be able to last us a good couple of months," Michelle said, her face red from having her helmet sandwiched around her head. "Given how crappy this piece of junk is, we're lucky we're getting this much copper out of this thing."

Robert was eagerly hovering over some of the scrap copper in anticipation with Michelle. "The radars do need some maintenance... you wouldn't mind if I took the radars offline for a bit while I repaired them?" he asked, turning his head to Wolf.

Wolf was resting his eyes, sleepy from the blankness of space stretching out indefinitely from the windows of the  _Amethyst_. "I suppose we're fine for now," he growled. "There hasn't been anyone around us for the last few days."

Robert nodded in reply, quickly turning to the back of the room, wasting no time in shutting off the radar. In an instant, the whirring of the radar screens became deadly silent, making the room much more quiet and tolerable.

"I thought that thing would never shut up," Duncan said dryly in relief. "I can't focus with that thing blaring, anyways. Do you think we could keep it off?"

"Be quiet," snapped Robert jokingly, before returning back towards the circuits of the radar scanners.

Marcus carefully walked up to Duncan, doing his best not to seem to innocent in front of the whole crew. "How long do you think the radar will be out of service for?" he asked cautiously.

Duncan, giving a big smile, chuckled in laughter. "Knowing Robert, it could range from ten minutes to a full week!"

Robert laughed back, giving his appreciation to Duncan's joke. Marcus grimaced, however, stretching his face out in uncertainty. Michelle, telling even from a distance that Marcus was worried, walked towards him and Duncan.

"The emergency radar's running in the background," Michelle told Marcus. "We won't be completely defenseless out there. But like Wolf said, there's hardly anyone out there worth looking out for. Even if anyone were to attack, there's nobody out there in the universe that we can't take down."

"That's good to know," Marcus sighed. They all sat quietly next to each other, letting the silence of the  _Amethyst_ 's hums of the engine fill the air while Robert worked away in the background. Marcus looked around the room, wanting to break the silence but not in a way that seemed too obvious.

A few thoughts from Duncan echoed through Marcus' head as Duncan groaned inwardly. Unsurprisingly, Marcus knew Duncan was bored out of his mind, as he was lounging back into the wall on his chair, as if he had gone through a day like this a million times before.

Marcus then went on to Michelle, who wasn't thinking about anything in particular, resting her eyes in a rare moment of rest. But Marcus knew from before that he could tell Michelle had some doubts about his abilities as a pilot, even during the minor training exercises he went through. Marcus badly wanted to prove Michelle wrong, even for only a day, just to validate himself in front of the whole Star Wolf team. Marcus instinctively took one of the plastic cups that was on the table and crushed it between one of his hands, sending his frustrations through the cup. Michelle looked up from resting her eyes and stared directly at the cup, and immediately more thoughts of doubt from Michelle went into Marcus' mind.

Marcus got up and went towards Robert working underneath the radar console, wanting him to help him out, if only to pass the time and to focus his mind on something else other than the silence in the air. More thoughts instead ended up into Marcus' mind, although it was nothing but complicated technical jargon, as Robert struggled to get the tiny circuits inside the radar screen back in order. Marcus sighed and thought it was best to leave him alone, not wanting to break Robert's concentration, and headed directly back towards his room to rest.

Before Marcus was able to open the door to his room, Wolf spotted him walking down the hallway and called him over to speak with him.

"Get here for a minute," Wolf said sternly, "before you fall asleep again. Let me talk to you about our mission."

Marcus had a questioned look on his face. "What, on using the copper on that ship?"

"No, I mean what our long-term goals are, what our purpose is," replied Wolf. "I just want to make sure you're on the same page."

"Of course," answered Marcus. The two of them went into the back room again, passing Michelle and Duncan on their way. Wolf found a corner of the room where they could speak quietly and not disturb the two lounging around. Duncan was already fast asleep, and Michelle was meditating to herself, deep in her own thoughts.

"Maybe we could find somewhere else to speak," Marcus suggested cautiously. "Just so we don't wake up anyone in here."

"Don't worry about that," replied Wolf. "We won't disturb them talking like this. Besides, I'm keeping an eye on the close-range scanners, so I can't go far from here, anyways."

Marcus nodded in agreement, as he sat down across from Wolf on the farthest table away from Michelle and Duncan. Marcus could sense Wolf's emotions then, which was rare, given that he was very hard to sense through. At the same time, however, it was very concerning, considering the number of rumours about Wolf he had heard growing up. Marcus could sense an endless sense of determination that he had never seen from anyone before, not even from his own father. That drive and determination gave chills down Marcus' spine, as he sat face to face across from Wolf, experiencing those rumours first-hand.

"I have to be honest with you, Marcus," Wolf started. "Robert told me about where you came from, and what you did at the Academy. It sounded exactly like they just didn't want you there anymore."

"That's what I figured," groaned Marcus. "I worked all my life to get in there, and they just throw me out for trying to defend myself."

Wolf leaned forward onto the table, making Marcus all tensed up inside. "Have you ever thought exactly why they wanted you out of the Academy in the first place?"

Marcus didn't answer, sitting in silence, not wanting to break Wolf's response.

"It's really quite simple, when you think about it," explained Wolf. "All they want is to rule and dominate everyone's lives. They want to be in complete control of everything, from the tiny drops of water in the ocean to the largest spaceships in the galaxy. They want complete power over everyone, and anyone outside wanting some of that power is seen as a threat, and any threat is quickly... exterminated."

Marcus gulped, becoming more and more nervous by the second. "What's going to happen to us, then?"

"Right now?" Wolf replied. "Well, if we let the Republic have their way, then life will go on as it usually does - people will be constantly silenced for the things they do and say every day, and I was one of them, when I was a bit younger. I was like you once, thinking that anyone could make a difference doing things the right way. I don't know what it was that I said, what I did, but I just did what I felt was the best thing to do at the time. And I got punished for it."

Marcus didn't dare ask him what had happened. He could tell it was a similar story to what he had gone through, and didn't want to relive those horrible memories from the Academy again.

"After they kicked me out of the Academy," Wolf continued, "I lived on the streets for a couple of years, living off just about anything I could find at the time. Then I got a low-paying cargo job, which got me off my feet for a bit, but I realized it was so that I could be used a pawn for their own will. It was just enough money to survive, just enough to buy food and a roof over my head. Everything else went to the government. They used that money to make sure I didn't dare cross them in any way. Eventually, however, I had a plan."

"And that was?" Marcus' eyebrows were raised in curiosity.

"I managed to get a ship, a crappy one, and became a bounty hunter. Thugs all over paid me to shoot down anyone I wanted. It really didn't matter who I shot down, I just did it. Two grand for two heads, it was all I ever really needed. Nobody really knew who I was, which was the best part. That is, except for the man who wanted to take down the Cornerian Army from within, and lead it into freedom. I doubt you know who I'm talking about, considering the propaganda against him."

"Andross?" Marcus asked sternly.

"Smart kid," Wolf answered, pouring a drink of bourbon from a flask. "What you may not know about him was that he actually cared about the poor - he wanted to get rid of all the classes of society, eliminate all poverty, and make sure that nobody could take advantage of anyone because they had more money than someone else. He wanted to make everyone in this galaxy equal to one another."

"But Andross was an evil monster," Marcus said, wanting to make his voice heard while at the same time, not wanting to wake up the whole room. "He killed thousands of people, maybe even more!"

"That may be true," Wolf admitted. "But he was no different from the leaders of Corneria. I never was a fan of his freaky little experiments myself, but the generals of the Corneria Army were hardly any saints, either. They still killed the same amount of people, for less reasons than Andross ever had... just maybe not in a sadistic kind of way. But that's not the point. The Cornerian Army killed the innocent and the dissidents of their Army. Andross only killed the figureheads that were leading the Cornerian Army. A person here, a person there. But the propaganda machine, as I mentioned, spun this to make him look like a mass murderer."

Wolf brought over a glass to Marcus, and immediately poured a glass of bourbon, which Marcus accepted without saying a word. In that moment, Marcus knew that Wolf offered the drink not as a favour, but almost as medicine, as if he were a doctor ordering him to take a drink. It was as if Wolf was saying,  _Take it. You're going to need it._

"Let me tell you something about the Lylat Wars. It was a classic example of the Cornerian Army looking for an excuse to create a war. Remember, all that propaganda made Andross look like the spawn of the devil. That was the only way to convince the public that going into a war was a good idea. You see, they exiled Andross, sent him to Venom for what he allegedly did - whether or not he actually did any of that, I'm not too sure, I only met the guy a few times - but after he was exiled, people forgot about him. As far as the public was concerned, he was a footnote in history."

"So what caused the war, then?" Marcus asked, growing more and more curious, as he took another sip from the bourbon glass in front of him.

"Andross may have been a bogeyman for the Cornerian Army... but he had some friends left there. So they sent a small team of pilots to Venom, pretended that one of them got captured, and planned to use that as the reason to invade Venom, and chip back and forth endlessly as long as they wanted to, even give Andross something in return if things ended up well. There was just one problem with that plan, though. Pigma, the idiot, thought he could get a bigger reward by killing the pilot rather than capturing him."

"You mean James McCloud?" Marcus purely mentioning the name alone sent a pall across an already quiet room.

Wolf nodded in agreement. "Andross never wanted him dead because it could have prolonged the war as long as they wanted to. But Pigma shot down James, and Peppy got away, spreading the news to everyone... that's when Andross started to lose it, in my opinion. Maybe he tried out one of those crazy experiments on himself, who knows. But when the plan for the war was completely ruined by Pigma, it enraged enough people at the Cornerian Army that they started to blame Andross again and... I don't know what happened, to be honest. It all ended rather quickly. Andross spread the troops out too much, and it allowed the new Star Fox team to carve up right the middle and sneak through to Venom."

Marcus leaned back on his chair, feeling more focused than Wolf had ever seen him. "Did you ever meet my grandfather?"

"Not really," Wolf admitted. "What I do know of him was that he had figured out what the Cornerian Army was trying to do. He knew that there were people inside the Army co-operating with Andross, making a way to start a war and kickstart their economy. That's the only way the Cornerian Army can make a surplus, by starting a war and making everyone manufacture weapons and spaceships and what not. But James wasn't stupid. He knew what was going on, that innocent people were going to die for economic gain. He wanted to reveal this plan to the world, and instead he was sent to Venom to die there. Pigma was probably paid by the Army to kill James. He wasn't the first person silenced by the Army, and he certainly won't be the last."

At that moment, Marcus knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life - to get rid of the old order of the Lylat System, and bring in a new era of living, one where everyone lived on equal terms, and wasn't controlled by money or riches or anything that could disadvantage anyone.

"I'm tired of living in a society that is ruled by the rich," grumbled Marcus. "I just want everyone to be together, to live as one. There has to be a better way to live than to have to rely on death in order to make a living."

"I'm glad we're on the same page," smirked Wolf. "That's where I was leading to, to discuss our plan of action for the future. First, there's an information bank on Titania that has all the classified information for the Republican Army. There's probably more information banks out there, but the one on Titania is the largest as well as the least guarded by external forces, given the planet's rough climate."

Suddenly, a couple of alarms started going off on the short-range scanner, with the sounds ringing in quick succession. A couple of fighters flew right over the  _Amethyst_  and took shots at the ship, shaking everyone inside. Michelle and Duncan quickly got up from their chairs and towards the docking area, where all the Wolfens were located.

"We'll go discuss this later on," Wolf shouted. "Just get in your Wolfen and take these dumbasses down."

Marcus quickly followed suit and ran behind Wolf, not wanting to get left behind. Entering the dock, Marcus jumped into his Wolfen and quickly went through the final safety checks, making sure the G-diffuser was in working order, making sure the weapons were correctly aligned, and got the internal sensors ready, so that he would know where to go back to after the battle was over.

The Wolfens launched away, and the tunnel leading outside the  _Amethyst_  was blurring by Marcus, with the lights above them appearing like they were flashing at him. Marcus had gone out of the tunnel before, and had gotten used to the internal forces he went through when going out. Still, he kept admiring the way the lights flashed past him, one directly after another, slowly going faster and faster as the Wolfen went faster and faster, until all the walls around him disappeared, leaving nothing but the empty plains of outer space and the stars that lit up the skies. Marcus's internal radar then lit up, showing the location of all of his teammates right alongside them.

The radio inside Marcus's Wolfen crackled for a second, before Wolf rang in to give an update on the situation. "There's only about eight or ten of those buggers, but they appear to be deadly. It's nothing we can't handle, though," Wolf assured.

"I'll take the two guys on the right hand side," Duncan confirmed.

"Guess I'll head towards the left," Michelle replied.

"We'll both go up the middle, then, Marcus," Wolf said, sending off a smart bomb around the centre of the enemy formation.

Marcus lifted his Wolfen up to get out of the blast, and looked behind him to see if the bomb did any damage. Already, there were three enemies left in its wake, with the other three in the centre getting out of the way just in time.

"Dangit," Wolf growled, "that was the only smart bomb we had. We could have gotten more with that."

Marcus looked around him, trying to locate the other fighters that had escaped the smart bomb blast. He could see Michelle and Duncan both having two fighters of their own, and one of the fighters in the centre had already started to chase down Wolf. Marcus noticed one of the fighters emerging over him, so Marcus took some shots at the fighter, trying to get a headstart on his battle. However, the fighter quickly noticed just in time to swerve out of the way, leaving Marcus's shots wasted. He spotted the fighter above him and darted towards him, sending out more shots as well. Marcus landed some shots, but the fighter was rolling his jet, deflecting the shots Marcus was firing.

Frustrated, Marcus charged up his lasers, hoping that a charged shot would at least get some splash damage through. Marcus let the lasers go up to full blast, then… nothing. He set the charge to fire, but his lasers suddenly went dead. A small message popped up on Marcus's dash, reading "LASERS OVERLOADED." Marcus dropped back, giving him time for his lasers to fully recover.

Marcus looked back at the fighter he was chasing, and found Wolf was easily shooting the enemy down by rapidly firing at the enemy, while also moving in the same direction the enemy was going in to keep aligned with his firing radius. Even at his age, Wolf could still outrun the best pilots in the galaxy, and seeing him hunt down the enemy was a work of art, poetry in motion that was beautifully orchestrated.

Suddenly, Marcus could feel his Wolfen get hit by a few laser shots from behind. Another enemy had approached him while he wasn't concentrating on the battle.

Marcus shouted at himself in the cockpit, then performed a U-turn, going over the enemy in the process, and then righted his jet up to make it level with the rest of the action. He checked his radar to make sure there was nobody else closely around him, then checked his lasers. They weren't quite ready yet. Marcus zoomed off around the outside of the battle area, giving him lots of room and to also check on the rest of the action from far away.

From what Marcus could see, Michelle had already downed one of her fighters and had just the one left to go. He saw Wolf shoot down a fighter and saw two others spread out across him in no real threat. Duncan was having a tough time handling his two fighters, as he would try shooting down one only to get shot at by the other.

"Stay right there, Duncan," Marcus said alarmingly, "I'll back you up in just a minute!"

"Relax," Duncan replied insistently, "I've got this handled. Focus on the guys around Wolf."

"I'll try to distract the guy behind you," said Michelle. She sent out a low charge shot at the fighter behind Duncan, making it pause and drift away. Duncan then took a flurry of shots at the fighter ahead of him, making the enemy's jet explode in the process in a ball of fire.

Marcus shut his eyes to protect him from the flash of fire that appeared in the distance. None of the other fighters exploded like that, even the ones hit by the smart bomb.

"I'm not too happy of what just happened there," Duncan admitted.

"It looks like there are only four fighters left remaining," Michelle added. "That leaves us with one each.

Marcus spotted a fighter blazing towards the left side of him. "I'll take care of that guy right there," stated Marcus, pointing his Wolfen towards the fighter. He checked his lasers again and found they were good to go.  _Try not to overload the lasers again_ , he thought to himself.

Marcus rushed his ship over to the enemy fighter, sending out a few shots. He managed to land a few, but the enemy noticed him and started to dart away. Marcus chased after him, not wanting to lose him. He followed each turn that the enemy made to keep following him, but Marcus felt the Wolfen get less responsive when turning, given the speed that he was going. Eventually, Marcus lost track of the fighter, and he slowed down, trying to gauge where he was in the battle area. Marcus then noticed the fighter approaching behind him, and began to speed away, this time now being the one chased.

The enemy fighter fired at Marcus, but Marcus used the same tactics the enemies were using on him earlier, dodging the lasers and rolling around to deflect the lasers. Marcus had an idea, though, and brought his Wolfen up to somersault around the enemy jet. The enemy was caught off guard from the move and didn't change his course, allowing Marcus to take plenty of shots right at the fighter, destroying one of his wings, making the enemy ship much slower than before.

Marcus zoomed right by the fighter, but turned to face the enemy fighter. He could see inside the enemy cockpit and the pilot struggling to get his ship operational again. Marcus was right in front of him, and the fighter was completely helpless. He felt his hands shaking and sweating on the controls.

"What the hell are you lingering for?" yelled Michelle on the radio. "Take the damn shot!"

Snapped out of his trance, Marcus went to fire at the enemy fighter, but nothing happened. In his trance, Marcus charged up the lasers without realizing it, overloading them in the process. He pounded on the dashboard in rage, cursing himself at the same time.

Suddenly, the disabled fighter got its' thrusters back online and shot a flurry of charge shots in Marcus' direction. Marcus turned the ship around and quickly got out of firing range to let his lasers recharge again.

Zooming in from the distance, Duncan swooped in from above and shot at the wingless fighter, sending another blaze in its wake. Marcus could see the flame's light reflecting on his dashboard, and Marcus growled in anger to himself.

Marcus could hear Duncan chirping on the radio in excitement. "Am I good or what? I told y'all I was back!"

"Settle down, big boy," Wolf chipped.

There was now a small pause over the radio. Marcus checked his radar again, but saw no enemies nearby him at all.

"My fighter's gone off to where he came from," Michelle stated.

"Mine too," replied Wolf. "Guess they don't want to be added to the casualty list."

Duncan laughed heartedly, letting everyone know of his feelings. The mission had been a success, even if the Wolfens took a beating. But Marcus wasn't happy at his performance. Not wanting to simmer anymore, he turned the radio off.

"Dammit, man, I  _had_ him," Marcus shouted out loud to himself, shaking his head.

When the Wolfens reached back to the docks, all the other pilots got out in normal fashion. Marcus, though, stayed behind, simmering in anger over his own actions. When Marcus noticed that nobody was in the docks anymore, he slowly got out of the cockpit, and went towards his room in the back of the hallway.

Marcus walked right by Michelle, not even looking up to her face. Involuntarily, he could still sense that she wasn't too happy with Marcus, as she was angry and frustrated at him. She was fuming at his indecisiveness. Marcus didn't want to get into an argument, so he stormed off into his room and let the sliding door slam shut.

Marcus laid down on his bed, pounding his pillow in anger. He shouted and cursed at himself, wanting to reverse all the decisions he made in the battle.

The buzzer went off outside his room. Marcus ignored it, wanting to soak in his anger. He then heard the door pound furiously, as Marcus covered the pillow over his head to soften the noise.

"Get up, man," Wolf yelled through the door, "Don't act like a wimp over there!"

Marcus looked up briefly for a minute, still simmering in rage, but didn't say anything more so as to not get Wolf to say anything more. Besides, he didn't want to read Wolf's mind unintentionally as well.

"Open the door before I break it down for you," Wolf warned.

Grunting as he got up, Marcus threw his pillow back on the bed and slumped to the door, dreading what Wolf was going to say.

"Listen, I'm not going to go around telling you how to act in the battle fields, but remember this one fact," Wolf said sternly. "Everyone's out to get everyone here. There are people out there that would maul through just about everyone in sight just to survive out there. Given that, you can't hesitate and wait for things to follow through. Sometimes you've got to take action yourself."

Marcus didn't say a word, staring right at Wolf listening to what he was saying.

"Sometimes you have to kill to survive out there. It's a basic fact of life. Nothing can change that. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Yes, very clearly," replied Marcus coldly.

Wolf then walked towards the bridge without saying another word, briefly looking back towards Marcus before heading off. Marcus closed the door and sat back down on his bed, covering his forehead with his hands. "Dammit, I can't keep controlling my mind any longer," he grumbled to himself. "Every day it just keeps getting worse and worse."

Marcus got up and walked towards his fridge at the corner of the room. Inside, there were a few bottles of beer that he had picked up from an orbital store a couple of days ago. It wasn't as potent as the Venomian bourbon he had earlier, but it would do the job for the time being. "No sense trying to tell anyone about it, I guess," Marcus sighed. "A lot of good it did me before. Three bottles of this should do the trick for tonight."

Marcus opened up one of the bottles, took a few gulps, and let the fluid flow inside his body. Marcus then made sure the door was locked in his room, ensuring that the doorbell wasn't going to disturb him until morning. "I just have a feeling this is going to be one of  _those_  nights," he grumbled. There wouldn't be anyone around him that night except for the stars gazing throughout the galaxy.


	14. Chapter 14

Falco hadn't talked to Slippy in years, and he wasn't sure if he was willing to lend him his ears, never mind a few ships needed to form a new team. The two didn't exactly leave on speaking terms the last time they met, both blaming each other for the demise of the Star Fox team. Fox's departure left a leadership void and the team quickly crumbled down. Eventually, they all went their separate ways, not really caring for one another anymore.

Falco wasn't even sure if Slippy was still on Aquas anymore. He had heard from word of mouth that he had been running an aviation company within the past couple of years, but was hazy on details on where exactly he was. Aside from Fox and Krystal, he hadn't heard from any of his former teammates. Fox would chat with him every now and then if he was feeling well, and Krystal would often be the one talking to Falco if Fox wasn't available. Not that he would want to intentionally, anyways, but sometimes it was necessary. Fox had apparently heard from Slippy, and Fox's word was better than most people, even now as he hides away in Papetoon.

As Falco descended down on the shuttle and saw the endless ocean waves that blanketed the planet, Falco couldn't help but wonder how far the planet had come since the Lylat Wars, when the entire planet was completely polluted and the sea levels took over every small island in sight. Now, the levels had receded a bit, leaving enough land for people like Slippy to manufacture the best fighter jets in the galaxy, all behind the prying eyes of the Republic. As far as the Republic is aware, the only people who live here are retirees and marine animals.

One of those islands held a base that covered the entire island, leaving no coastline behind. The size of the base (and therefore, the island itself) was big enough to house a few hangars, but it wasn't what you would consider to be a "big" island. There was an aircraft carrier housed right beside the island, presumably where planes could come in and land. However, this shuttle was able to land fully on water, making everyone's lives more convenient, especially Slippy's, considering the lack of real estate.

There were a couple other people going along with Falco on the shuttle. One was a thin-looking thug who probably had no business even being on Aquas, but Falco found it best not to say anything to avoid any confrontation and conversation. The other was a shady fellow, who Falco estimated to be about the same age as himself, given his grey hair and the wrinkles on his forehead. Falco would like to imagine that the shady fellow was here for the same reason he was, to start up a team from scratch, but didn't want to get in a deep conversation. He was perfectly fine with himself to stay silent. There were windows to look out of, but people can only look at an empty, wide, ocean for so long before getting bored.

When the shuttle craft finally landed down, Falco saw the chipped letterings of the name of the company: Space Dynamics, formerly one of the biggest manufacturers in the Lylat System. Falco knew of this company before, since they were the ones that built the original Great Fox. The team financed the ship through an 80-year loan; Falco remembered that they had to default on the loan not long before the Anglar Blitz. Seeing Fox obsess over the money at the time was not a pretty sight, and seeing the name "Space Dynamics" gave him chills, reminding him of one of Fox's "incidents" with the loan sharks. Falco wondered how Fox even survived that deal at all, given the circumstances.

Still, Space Dynamics was probably the only company he knew of that could supply spacecraft without automatically linking any ties to one side or another, Cornerian or Venomian. During the Lylat Wars, they were the only company to work directly with both sides of the war, and they continued on that neutrality, not wanting to get involved in petty politics, especially when the Republic was formed. It allowed them more freedom to choose their own clients, maximizing their profits in the process.

Falco entered in the workshop and could immediately see four or five spacecraft being worked on, smelling the melting metal in the thick air. The tight confines meant that there was only a narrow pathway for people to walk through, and it was littered with tools and scrap metal. Falco had to occasionally cover his eyes when someone was starting a weld, given the close proximity of the spaceships to where he was walking.

Falco was looking around the workmanship of the spaceships too much that he failed to notice that the thin-looking thug had been following him around the entire time.

Falco turned back and stared right at the thug, trying to gaze into his intentions. "What do you want?" he barked.

"Don't know what you want from me," the thug grunted back.

Falco looked suspiciously at the thug, but figured not to mess around with him and decided it was best to move on. He spotted an office located in the corner of the base, under what appeared to be a storage room of some sort. Falco assumed it was Slippy's office, so he decided to make his way into there and drop by unannounced, like he usually preferred to do in the past.

Falco opened the door to the office, which had the lights left on and the door unlocked. "He shouldn't be too far away, if he left everything on here," Falco concluded. Having time to spare, Falco looked around the office, finding many model aircraft from various years, some that were currently being built by the Cornerian Army, some being built for common civilian use, and others from way back in the past that were likely kept as historical pieces. There was also a few posters advertising for Space Dynamics, which was odd, considering that someone coming in there would have to know the company beforehand before coming into this office. But Falco just shrugged and waited some more.

Conspicuously missing from the model and poster collection, though, was anything related to the Star Fox team. No Arwings, no Landmasters, not even the Blue Marine, Slippy's claim to fame, was anywhere to be found in his office. Clearly, Slippy's opinion on the Star Fox team had changed in the years since the team disbanded.

Falco was bored, so he got right back up the chair and looked out the window that led to the workshop. He could see the thin-looking thug wandering around again, glancing on the spacecraft that was being repaired on. One of the workers went to speak to him and got into a tense argument – clearly the two knew each other and had some beef with each other. Falco couldn't hear what they were saying through the thick window glass, but Falco couldn't help himself but spy on the two, wondering how the thug got into the business of buying spacecraft. He didn't seem the type.

Nonetheless, the worker quickly shooed him away faster than when they met, not wanting to deal with him any further. The thug walked off and out of the building, having gotten what he went in for. Falco got a good look at the worker as he walked with his head down towards the office. He wasn't portly like Slippy was the last time they met, but he wasn't exactly thin, either. Still, Falco tried to wonder if they met before anywhere. "He looks familiar, but I don't know where I met him before," Falco sighed.

Not wanting to look suspicious, Falco sat back down on the chair across from the main desk, turning the chair so that he was facing the door. The worker turned the doorknob, paused for a bit, likely out of surprise that the door was unlocked in the first place, and then opened up the door to find Falco with his fist laid on the side of his face, almost as if he had been waiting for him the entire day.

The worker took a long look at Falco. He definitely recognized him from years ago, though Falco looked less than convinced that it was the case. The years definitely weren't kind to either of them. In any event, the two of them didn't know what to say at first, probably because the surprise at seeing each other caught them off guard.

Even if Falco had only seen Slippy yesterday, he probably wouldn't know what to say to him, given the circumstances.

"The hell are you doing here?" Slippy asked distrustfully.

"What do you think I'm here for?" Falco replied, "I'm here to buy some ships of yours, nothing else." He took a look at Slippy again, stunned at how much the frog had aged. "Lose some weight or something? I didn't recognize you at first."

"Shut up," Slippy snapped, casting a shifty glare at Falco. "Anyway, if all you want is a few ships, then why not simply send in a request for an invoice, instead of travelling all the way here?"

"Let's just say I'm in a hurry, and I need to get the ships as soon as possible. Besides, I prefer meeting the guy I'm sending money to, face to face."

Slippy shrugged, not wanting to back away from a money-making deal. "Well, we can talk about setting up a deal, if that's what you really want," he said, going around to his side of the desk. "Exactly what type of budget did you have in mind?"

"A tight one," Falco answered.

Slippy grimaced for a bit, thinking of his options. "We have Interceptor-class jets we could get rid of. It doesn't have capabilities for smart bombs, but it's reasonably fast, and they're equipped with dual lasers as standard."

"You got anything else?" Falco asked.

"Sure I do," Slippy answered quickly, "but this model's probably the cheapest one I got right now. I could get you better models, but they'd be more expensive."

Falco shrugged, looking around the room thinking of something to say. "Well, I guess I don't have much to choose from, I guess."

Slippy looked at Falco again, now more skeptical than ever. "Just what do you plan on doing with your own fighter, anyways?

" _Four_  fighters," corrected Falco.

"Oh no…" Slippy facepalmed as he leaned back against the wall. "You're not  _really_  considering reforming the old team back together again? I'm not going to be a pilot for you… and good luck finding Fox and Krystal."

"I wasn't going to ask you to pilot," Falco replied back. "I was considering forming a new team, separate from the old one. I have a few pilots in mind that I can recruit. I don't need you back as a pilot."

Slippy chuckled to himself, not sure of Falco's true intentions. "Listen, Star Fox ended a long time ago. The last thing anyone wants today is some wannabe gang who blurs the lines between good and evil. It's all in the past now, Falco. Don't go around trying to relive all the memories you have of being a mercenary. It's not worth it. Trust me, I've tried."

"This isn't about recreating the past, Slip. This is more about making sure who's the real boss around here. There's something not quite right about the Republican Army. I can't quite put it into words, but I don't think they really give a damn about anything anymore."

"I thought that too," admitted Slippy, "but when I stopped worrying about everything and started to live on with the rest of my life, I found that I wasn't so uptight. I find I live a little easier that way."

"Really, come on now," Falco yelled, briefly throwing his hands up in the air before sighing. "Do you have enough of those ships, or don't you?"

"There's always enough spacecrafts to go around. But you know, it won't be cheap. This may come as a shock to you, but buying and maintaining these things costs more than you think."

"I'm aware of that," Falco grimaced. "You have any of those laying around here? I just want to have a look at them first before blowing some major dough on some old ships."

"Actually, there's one being worked on right now," Slippy said, getting up from his chair. "There's one, right behind us in that shop bay," he continued, pointing at the closest ship to the office.

"Oh…  _that_ one," Falco said embarrassingly.

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize that model when I said the name of it. The  _Interceptor_ is the same kind of ships the Cornerian Army used to run during the Lylat Wars."

Falco rolled his eyes. It was the same inferior ships that were slower and less agile than the Arwings the team used to run. Falco couldn't remember the last time he rode in an  _Interceptor_ , perhaps during his days on the Cornerian Flight Academy shortly before the Lylat Wars began. It reminded him of how he got into Star Fox to begin with, as he left the Academy after only being there for two years to fight against Andross' forces. Falco wondered if he could pick someone similar out of the Academy now.

"Can I ask something, Slip? You know a bunch of people at the Academy, right? Do you know of any good pilots looking for work?"

Slippy shook his head. "How should I know? I never talked to any of the pilots there. Besides, I thought you had an idea on which pilots you wanted to hire?"

"I have two pilots for now, not including myself," explained Falco. "I was hoping for a four team crew, so I need at least one more."

Slippy almost burst out in laughter. "So you  _are_  trying to fly again. I told you, it's all in the past now."

"Well, it was worth a try," sighed Falco. "Maybe I'll get lucky in finding a decent teammate, or something. I guess you're not interested, then?"

"Just send in the money as soon as you can," Slippy groaned.

"I'll try to give you as much as I can within the next week or so, but it won't be much until I can get some more funds."

"I'll need at least a 50% deposit before I can even give you anything," Slippy exclaimed. "I don't even know if I have enough salvageable Interceptors that can be made ready quickly, and they'll probably need to be restored somewhat. That costs money, too, you know."

"Jeez," Falco shouted, "when did you get so damn strict?"

"When being the nice guy started to affect making ends meet," Slippy snarled.

Falco threw up his hands again, not wanting to get into another argument. "Never mind, then. Do you have a communicator I could borrow? I had to leave mine back where I was on Fichina, since I didn't want the Army going around tracking where I was."

"What in the world does the Republican Army want to do with you?" Slippy asked upsettingly.

"I think they're on to me, Slip. When the revolution happened in Venom, I did a few things there that I should never have done. I don't want to go into gory details, but… I may have started that mess to begin with in the first place."

Slippy stared back at Falco, puzzled at Falco's words. "I hardly think the Army wants to hunt down people that aren't even close to being on their radar. Anyway, just bring over the deposit by two weeks, tops, or else I give someone else a chance to buy the Interceptors. And that's being completely generous, if you ask me." Slippy pulled out his communicator and handed it to Falco. "You can borrow this for a bit, but don't take too long. And luckily for you, I disabled the tracking device on that thing, so I want it  _back_  afterwards, alright? I get followed around by burglars enough already as is."

"Relax, okay?" Falco insisted. "I'll give your communicator back to you. Thanks." Falco stepped outside the office, typing in a number to make a call. Falco impatiently waited as he let the communicator work its magic and send the message through. There was no response, so Falco typed in another number and waited some more.

The communicator finally got through to the other side, and Falco carefully listened through to hear the other person on the line.

"Yeah, this is Falco. Never mind what the call display says, it's me! Now listen. We have a few ships available.  _Interceptor_ class, I think. Does that ring any bells? …they're good enough? Well, I'll try to order them as soon as I can, but the prick wants to get the money in as soon as possible. …what's that? You say you know someone who can loan us some money? Where are they at? …Katina, huh? Well, I'll make my way over there, I'll touch base as soon as I can. Tell Jonathan we'll have the mission plan ready in a few days. …no, there's only  _four_  ships available, I'm sorry! I'll see what I can do. Besides, we need someone to drive the support ship. We'll talk about this later. Goodbye."

Falco stormed back into Slippy's office, not wanting to waste any more time. "Here, you can have this back. I should get the deposit in within a few days. I also grabbed your communicator number while I had it, so when I get a chance, I'll phone you again and give you the details on how to get your money through."

"Thanks," Slippy said without saying another word. Falco then left off almost as quickly as he came in.

Slippy, being the nosy character he is, looked through the numbers that Falco had called. The first one didn't look familiar, but the second one did: "C MCCLOUD" read the identification display, immediately getting a reaction from Slippy. "Oh, lord, if that's who I think this is…"


	15. Chapter 15

It was dark outside, but that was mainly because the only thing Marcus could see outside was the blackness of space. It isolated him from the madness and chaos going on in the world, but that was just fine for him, since the minute he tried to get up out of bed, his head pounded like a jackhammer trying to break out of his skull.

Marcus squeezed his eyes and tried to focus his vision at the room around him, which was perpetually in an untidy mess. Marcus forcefully got himself upright on the bed and knocked over one of the beer bottles that was spread out across the floor. He could only remember drinking a few bottles last night, but couldn't figure out exactly how much. Marcus stood up and walked towards the fridge, and leaned on the nearby wall as he opened the fridge up to check what was inside. It was empty. Somehow, Marcus had drank through all the beer he had within one short week.

Cursing himself, Marcus went back to his bed and laid back down, lying over the covers. He didn't even know what time it was, and even if he did, he didn't want to go over the hysterics of what might happen if he showed up late again. Not wanting to waste any time, Marcus got back up and got himself dressed in a presentable matter.

He went outside his room, and walked straight to the common area. However, there wasn't anyone else inside the room. Wolf was usually there, as well as Michelle, but both of them weren't anywhere to be found. Marcus checked the time on the nearby wall. It was 8:30. He was confused, because normally everyone would have been to the common area by now, even Duncan, who does  _not_  like to get up early. Something was up, so Marcus went to Wolf's room to investigate, pressing the buzzer nearby. No response.

Now, Marcus was really concerned. He pressed the buzzer again a couple more times, and heard some rustling inside the room.

"Who's there?" Wolf bickered. "What the hell do you want?"

"Aren't we doing anything today?" Marcus questioned awkwardly.

A small pause filled the area before Wolf responded. "It's our off day, you idiot. There's nothing to do today. I don't care what you do in your spare time, just let me get some sleep for a change!"

Marcus immediately left the area without saying another word. He didn't want to argue with that logic. However, Marcus was now left alone on the ship with nobody else awake, and it was too late in the day to go back to sleep. He figured he'd better at least get something to eat, so he rummaged through the cupboards. He was also looking for coffee grounds as well, but had no luck, as all the cupboards were empty.

"Jeez, guess I got to find another way to get rid of this headache of mine," Marcus groaned. Coffee had been a good cure for getting rid of a bad hangover, but he'd have to find something else, since the team drank all the coffee a few days ago.

Money had been tight for them, even after they found all that copper from before. The team didn't want to sell the copper all at once, or else they would look suspicious having an excess amount of money from out of nowhere. They had to sell it carefully.

Marcus gave up trying to look for something to eat, and went back to his room to grab a water bottle left over from a previous trip. Water, somehow, was an even more rare resource than money, beer, or copper in the Lylat System. Marcus took a few sips and put the bottle away, not wanting to drink it all in one sitting. He then returned back to the common area, sitting down on the chair in the middle, with his stomach growling for food. He would have to go without for breakfast, however.

For the next hour or so, Marcus simply closed his eyes and almost meditated with himself. It felt like he was meditating, but he really wasn't. He was reliving all the decisions he made up to that point inside his mind; His decision to leave Papetoon to join the Academy, his struggles throughout his time at the Academy, big and small, and the incident that got him kicked out of the Academy, which got him onto Star Wolf.

Somehow, amongst all the company around him, and the number of people he got connected with in the past couple of years, Marcus never felt more lonely in his life. All the work he put in to get into the Academy and eventually into Star Wolf never made him more happier than the day he left Papetoon. _"If only I had the power to do-over parts of my life,"_ Marcus sighed internally.

He was still thinking inside his mind when Robert came into the room and interrupted Marcus' thoughts.

"You still asleep there?" Robert joked.

Marcus chuckled nervously. "No, just thinking. What's up?"

"You want to know something?"

"What, exactly?" replied Marcus, pretending to be interested.

"There's a fine line between good and bad pilots, I find," Robert stated. "Most pilots who are competent enough to get into a ship and fly it in the right direction can get where they want to be. But if they do one fatal mistake, and I mean a  _really_  big mistake, all of a sudden their ego starts to turn to mush. They keep second guessing themselves and suddenly their reaction times aren't as good as they used to be."

"Your point being?"

"My point is that we're both not all that different. Whoever gets to where they want to be is all based on circumstance. Sometimes you just need to be lucky."

Marcus didn't want to get into a big discussion with Robert at the moment, so he tried to end the conversation right there. "I could agree with that," he concluded. But he could still see the curiosity in Robert's eyes.

"Just what exactly  _did_  you do at the Academy, anyways?" Robert examined. "I wasn't there long enough to really learn a lot there. I mean, it couldn't have been completely useless, right?"

"I suppose not," Marcus admitted. "There's some things there that I use on a daily basis that I learned there. But even if I learned a lot there, I wouldn't have gotten far had I stayed. There just wasn't anything there that I would have done that was worth anything."

"Now why do you say that?" Robert asked.

Marcus was now slightly annoyed, figuring out that all Robert was curious about was the Academy. "If I'm being completely honest with you… the Academy is nothing but a diploma mill. You  _literally_  cannot fail there. Even if you show up for the simulated flights and completely blow up the place, you'll still get credit just for showing up. Half the time they tell you stuff that's just plain common sense, and you'd have to intentionally go out of your way to fail a test they have. Sure, you can get higher marks here and there, but when everyone else around you can cruise right through, you know there's a serious problem."

Robert gave a big stare at Marcus, unsure what to say back to him.

"Trust me when I say this," explained Marcus. "There's nothing worthwhile at the Academy or the entirety of Corneria. There's too much shit around there to make anything good seem worth it in the end. It's not worth getting yourself stressed out about it. Because at the end of the day, when everyone gets the same stupid piece of paper, it means absolutely nothing to the rest of the world."

"It would still be better than a life of crime out in Venom," Robert admitted, turning his head.

"At least you have the chance of getting rich," responded Marcus. "At Corneria, you basically resign yourself to a life of near poverty. You barely make enough money there to survive, just to support the rich. That's not how I want to live my life. Don't think that you're going to escape the wrath of the galaxy, because you're not. Besides, hasn't your dad told you everything about Corneria?"

Robert conceded the fact to Marcus. "Just wanted to hear it from someone who's actually been there, at least outside the Academy."

"So you're finally starting to understand now?" Marcus asked.

"A little bit, actually," Robert admitted. "At least it knocked some sense into me."

"Don't thank me," Marcus replied. "Thank your dad for making me believe all this, too. I had a good idea on what was going on, but your dad put all the pieces together. Now, I'm leading towards the life I want to live, and not somebody else's… or the government's."

Marcus got back up from his chair and looked through the cupboards again. "Is there any extra booze around here at all, by any chance?"

"At this hour?" Robert exasperated, looking at his watch. "It's all back on Venom, anyway."

"Next time," Marcus chipped, "we should bring a couple of bottles just in case we go on a long trip unannounced."

"Sorry," Robert said glumly. "I usually do, but I forgot."

Marcus quietly grumbled to himself, slightly annoyed but not wanting to display it publicly. "At least you know for next time."

Robert was sitting down all quiet and resentful at himself for forgetting. Robert got back up from the chair and walked off without saying another word, too angry at himself.

"Guess he's had his fair share of mistakes in his lifetime," Marcus said to himself out of earshot of Robert.

"No, he's just jealous you're in the Wolfen, and he's not," Michelle interrupted, walking towards Marcus from behind. "He's usually like this when things don't go his way."

Marcus looked over and saw Michelle, who was groggy and stone-faced from a lack of sleep. "Surprised to see you up at this hour," Marcus said dryly, lacking the words to explain the same thing about himself.

"You want some words of 'wisdom,' Marcus?" Michelle asked sarcastically. "If you're really smart, you'd better not screw up our next plan. We have a plan to rob a big vault on Venom sometime soon, so we can't have anyone doing the wrong things. That will simply get us all arrested."

"I'm assuming there's a lot of money in this vault?" questioned Marcus curiously.

"It wouldn't be worth our time if we didn't think it had a lot of money in it," Michelle answered firmly. "There's something I need you to do before we get anywhere on this plan," she said, briefly waving her fingers towards her to indicate that she wanted him.

"What's that?" said Marcus, as he nervously went towards Michelle.

"Breakfast," Michelle simply stated.

Marcus did admit that he was a bit hungry. "Why didn't you simply say that beforehand?" he wondered out loud to Michelle.

The two of them went towards the back of the ship, and Michelle went into a box and grabbed an animal out of there. It was a scruffy looking kind of creature, a monster that closely resembled something out of Marcus' worst nightmares.

"I grabbed it from a merchant who said it was from Katina," explained Michelle. "You never know what kind of stuff you can find around the corners of Lylat," she said, placing the animal inside the sink while also holding the animal down as it tried to wrestle free.

"You're not planning to kill it, are you?" Marcus asked alarmingly.

"What did you think breakfast was?" Michelle replied, taking out a knife. "I'll keep the critter down for a bit. Take the knife and slice him open."

_Jeez, she can't be serious,_  he thought to himself. But he had no time to think about the consequences. Right now, there wasn't much food on the ship at all, and if he was going to get anything to eat at all today, he had to follow Michelle's orders.

Michelle was able to pin down the animal on the bottom of the sink, holding it down with all her might. Marcus slowly took the knife and brought it next to its neck. He could see the fear in its eyes, how it dreaded the pain and the terror that it was going to receive. Marcus couldn't get any kind of thoughts from the animal, perhaps in an attempt to try to plead to it, but he did receive what Michelle was thinking as he held the knife at the animal's throat; " _Just get on with it…"_

Marcus closed his eyes, and swiftly slit the knife as fast as he could on the neck of the animal, not wanting to prolong the misery. Instantly, a splotch of blood came out the animal, and it gave a terrifying shriek of agony, crying itself out to the far corners of the room, before the shouts subsided and turned into mere croaks and gasps.

There was a small trail of blood on Marcus. Another jacket ruined. But that was the least of his worries, as he looked over on his hands and found twice the amount of blood dripping down onto the sink, and shook himself in horror.

"It's still got a faint pulse," Michelle ordered, "get the limbs off this guy. There isn't much meat on there."

Marcus obliged and sliced off the legs and the arms of the animal. It was surprisingly easy, since the bones were paper thin and the knife was sharp enough to leave a mark on metal. More blood came out of the slots where the limbs used to ride on, but by now most of it had gone out of the body and down the drain in the sink. Michelle had already gone and grabbed another knife, and tore a hole right through the centre of the chest, trying to hook out the heart.

"I'll take care of this bit here," said Michelle as she dug in further in the chest. "This part is kind of tricky anyways."

Marcus could only look at his hands again, and all the blood on his fingers. Then he took a quick look at the heart Michelle had dug out of the animal, and although it truly horrified him, he couldn't help but keep staring at the shrivelled organ as she carefully took it up and put it down in a canister to send it away.

"Don't worry about these pests too much," Michelle explained. "These creatures are so damn common in Katina the population levels are growing to epidemic levels. They literally can't give these things away sometimes. They do make for good food, though. I hope you like it, because not everybody likes the taste."

"If you say so," Marcus replied nervously. He was still shaking from the entire moment.

"The same should apply to any other scum in the universe," continued Michelle. "If you don't like them, get rid of them. Don't look back. Think of them as you would these beasts. We're better off without them. There's another one in the box over there," she pointed with the knife. "Get that for me, will ya?"

Marcus went towards the closed box not far from where they were, and found another animal of the same species inside. This one was a bit smaller than the first one, and it was shaking and trembling inside the box. Marcus opened up the lid and quickly grabbed the animal, and it made noises and squirmed around, trying to escape.

"You'd think they'd at least sell the animals that are going to be eaten when they're already dead," Marcus deliberated.

"That's why it was so damn cheap," explained Michelle. "They claim it takes too much money to do the dirty work themselves. So we end up buying them while they're alive. Storing them takes a bit of work, but once you do this a few times, it becomes real easy. Saves us a lot of cash, too."

Marcus brought over the second animal over to the sink. Michelle threw out the remainder of the scraps of the first animal and held down the second one immediately afterwards. "Do this again," Michelle said, eyeing the knife in Marcus' hand, "but this time, try to go more slowly this time, so that it doesn't splatter everywhere on you."

Marcus nodded in agreement and brought the knife to the animal's knife again. He didn't stall this time, and simply made a deep cut into the throat, letting the blood slowly seep out. The animal shrieked and cried like the first one did, and Marcus simply tried to ignore the noises and focus on the task on hand. He got a glimpse of the animal's eyes as it widened in terror, almost as if it was pleading for mercy, but Marcus had no time to listen. He took the knife and slid off the limbs like he did before, and saw the light fade away from the animal's eyes.

"Good, you're getting a bit better at this," Michelle remarked. "Here, open up the chest, just so you can see the heart. Right there," she pointed at the animal.

Marcus took the knife to where Michelle pointed at and carefully dug through.

"Not too deep," she suggested, "just try to get to the surface of the skin. Make a square around that."

After making a square and carefully outlining the marks, he slowly opened up the incision and saw the heart, lying restfully inside. The complicated and winding veins made his head spin in confusion, and Marcus stood there, almost frightened by how still the organ lied there, leaving behind a ghost of its presence.

"I'll take over again from here," Michelle said, holding up her knife. "Watch very carefully."

She grabbed the still heart and tilted it over to one side, and cut off the veins on one side very carefully, one by one. Marcus tried to close his eyes during all this, but Michelle nudged and glared at him so that he would open his eyes again and focus. When the last one on that side had been loose, she tied down the veins so any blood wouldn't escape, trapping it all inside.

"You're going to have to get used to this, kiddo," Michelle said sternly. "Trust me, if you're going to become a good pilot, you're going to have to get used to creatures dying all over you. And sometimes, you need to protect your own skin and kill others in order to survive. That's just the harsh reality of things these days."

Marcus glanced over at Michelle, who was still getting the last of the organs out of the animal. "Where did you learn to do this?"

"At home," Michelle replied, as she kept her eyes focused on the animal, turning on the hose to wash away the blood spattered all over the sink.

"Interesting…" Marcus faced at Michelle, gaining in curiosity. "So you did this on a regular basis when you were younger?"

Michelle scowled and turned away from Marcus, trying to focus back on cleaning up in the sink. "Just how do you know about all this, anyway?" she bickered.

It then dawned on Marcus that he unwillingly got a glance into Michelle's mind. Her home reminded her of her past, memories more horrible than Marcus could have imagined. Michelle had her haunted past, living out in the forests, abandoned and all alone, and killing any animal out there for food to survive. When Marcus asked that to Michelle, he hadn't realized that he had just gotten into Michelle's thoughts, even briefly. The emotions were so strong it made the message clearer than anything Marcus had experienced before.

_Oh no,_ Marcus thought to himself.  _She's onto me. I don't know what to say._ Marcus had been staring at Michelle awkwardly, as she was glaring right at him, waiting for an explanation. It had all happened so quickly it never gave Marcus' mind to process it all.

"I have this... power, I guess, where I can glimpse into someone's thoughts. I can't get it accurate all the time, because I was told not to. But when I asked you about skinning the animals, you gave off such an impression that... forget it," said Marcus, turning away from Michelle as his mind went into a tailspin.

Michelle stood there, not saying a word, skeptically glaring back at Marcus. Eventually, Marcus found the right words to say to Michelle.

"What I mean to say is... sometimes I can see other people's minds, sometimes I can't. I don't know how to control it yet."

"So..." Michelle pondered skeptically. "You're a mind reader?"

"I guess you could call me that," he admitted. "Look, if I invaded your privacy at all just now, I'm sorry…"

"Just shut up and don't do that again," Michelle snapped. "I don't want any buggers going through my mind, alright?"

Marcus simply stared right back at Michelle, scared of what she was going to say or what she was going to do if he got too much of her thoughts again. He couldn't control his powers.

"Am I making myself  _clear_?" Michelle barked.

"Yes!" Marcus immediately jumped back, wanting to calm Michelle down.

"Good. My life is my life, and I don't anyone poking around with what I did or didn't do, ok?" Michelle wiped off some blood from the animal off her arm with an already stained cloth. "I'll clean up what's left over here, just go back and wait for the food to get cooked." Marcus duly followed her word and left the room, heading towards the washroom.

As he entered in, he darted towards the sink and got as much blood as he could out of his hands, but he could still see some of the remnants under his fingernails. The evidence would remain for a day or two, at least.

Marcus' mind was racing from the conflict with Michelle, so he tried rubbing cold water on his face to try to snap his mind back into shape. He looked back up in the mirror above the sink and saw his bright, blue eyes and tried to gaze right through it. He wondered if he could somehow get into his own mind and try to fix himself. He always saw other people and could always think of many ways that others could improve in, but he could never seem to find ways to improve himself at the right time. He thought of his powers again, his odd ability to get into the mindsets of others around him.

"How am I going to get out of this mess?" Marcus quietly asked himself. "Michelle's bound to tell everyone on the team about this. They're either going to kick me out or use me as a sideshow. I don't know what's going to happen…"

One thing Marcus did know for a fact was that the beer and alcohol limited his tendencies to read one's feelings. He didn't know exactly why this happened, but each drop settled his mind down to the point that his abilities didn't try to escape outside him. It was almost therapeutic, in a way.

The only problem with that plan was that he didn't have any beer left onboard. And it wasn't even noon. Not that it mattered, anyway, since there wasn't any daylight to distinguish from twelve noon to twelve midnight.

"Should I just tell Wolf about this?" Marcus asked, staring at the mirror. The swirling in his stomach quickly answered his mind in an instant. "I'd better not, or else I'll be considered a freak like Michelle is thinking right about now. Better to not say anything than to screw everything up all over again."

Marcus slumped out of the washroom, bitter and cold, and went towards the common area again. Not finding anyone to sit nearby (not that he wanted to, anyways), he went towards his room when he noticed an open door not far from where his bedroom was. It was Duncan's bedroom, and he was lounging around in one of his chairs with a sleeveless shirt and boxer shorts on.

"Door being open not bothering you?" Marcus asked to Duncan.

Duncan glared at Marcus, not in anger, but in reluctance, as he wasn't too interested to care about anyone around him. "I don't care," Duncan replied hastily.

Marcus noticed the beer bottle in Duncan's left hand. "What's that you got there?" he asked curiously.

"Breakfast," replied Duncan.

Marcus gave a brief look of surprise, but later realized that it was normal for Duncan. "Got any extras? I'll pay you," he offered.

Duncan lazily looked back at Marcus again, but this time gave a simplistic smile as he set down his beer bottle and got out of his chair, heading towards the side of the room and his fridge. He went inside and spent some time looking inside the fridge, out of sight from Marcus. He then returned to the front of the room and handed Marcus a non-descript beer bottle.

"Here, you can  _have_  this one," he insisted. "No charge."

"Thanks," Marcus replied in surprise. He didn't expect Duncan to be so generous. Duncan headed back towards his chair as Marcus opened up the bottle only to have the contents of the bottle spray and fizzle all over his hand and arm, pouring down until dropping down towards the floor. Marcus estimated half of the bottle went out just now.

"Great, that's a perfectly good waste of a beer," said Marcus in disgust.

"Are you kidding?" Duncan said, holding back his laughter. "That crap tastes like cat piss. It's better off on the floor than anywhere else, if you ask me."

Marcus took a sip anyways, letting the fluid wash through his mouth. "It's pretty ok," he commented. "I've had worse."

"You're a newbie," Duncan mocked, "you don't know shit about what the  _real_  stuff tastes like. If we ever get to Katina again, there's a brewery there that will knock you right out of the park."

"Thanks, I'll try to keep that in mind," replied Marcus, looking at the mess all over the floor of the hallway. He looked over at Duncan again and he sat back down on his chair, pulling out a tablet and looking over on it, studying its contents. It was probably one of the first times Marcus saw Duncan actually have interest in something other than flying.

"What'cha looking at?" Marcus asked.

"Nothing," Duncan answered. "Just trying to figure out how we're going to get more fuel and money for the team. Can't sell the copper all at once, you know."

"Makes sense," Marcus concluded. "Let me know if you get any good ideas, then," he said, almost heading his way out.

"Alright," Duncan said, "I got one."

Marcus turned back as he saw Duncan holding up his tablet with what looked like blueprints to a building on it. It instantly caught Marcus' attention. " _That's_  your plan?" he said with skepticism.

"It's a bank," Duncan stated. "There's obviously a lot of money in there. We go in, we get the money, we get out. We've got the firepower to take any punks out who want to take the money back, and we have a word or two to say to the thugs who run the government."

"We don't have any smart bombs left over from last time…" Marcus nervously said.

Duncan didn't look any more concerned than before. "What we have is what we have. The lasers should be good enough. Besides, they're more accurate than simply sending a bomb down there. Even if we did have a bomb, we don't want to blow up the money, too! Think, dumbass! Anyway, I haven't got an exact plan down yet. We need to get this right or they give themselves an excuse to lock us up for a few years. Maybe I'll get Wolf to look this over for a bit."

"Sounds good," Marcus answered. "Best to leave stuff like that to someone who actually knows what they're doing."

Duncan chuckled for a second. "Best idea I've heard all day. Maybe I'll go over now. He should be awake by now."

Duncan got into a pair of sandals (never mind that he was still wearing socks), and walked past Marcus over to where Wolf's bedroom was, carrying the tablet by his side.

"I should just let them plan everything rather than get involved," sighed Marcus. "I don't mind following orders for the time being. Wolf did tell me to be more patient."

Marcus was able to glance at the bigger picture Wolf told him about earlier. Wolf had big plans for the galaxy, a plan that would put the people first, and the people who thought they knew how to run the galaxy into their rightful place. It was the only way everyone would get a fair chance at freedom in the Lylat System, and if it had to come through force, then so be it.

_Freedom would come around soon enough_ , Marcus thought.  _Freedom from the government and their conspiracies. Their time will come inevitably._

Wolf would figure things out for the team eventually. Marcus would let him figure out everything out. Now the only thing Marcus wanted right now was another beer.


	16. Chapter 16

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" yelled Falco, talking on his communicator, as he got off his ship. "This planet gives me the chills, and it's not because of the cooler weather here."

"Corneria's the best option we have at the moment," buzzed Jenna on the other end of the line. "There must be hundreds of pilots looking for a job right now. Graduation must have been at least a few days ago."

"Maybe you're right, even if their work ethic is questionable," sighed Falco. "Last time I was at Corneria, I was so wasted I could hardly walk or see straight ahead of me. I was lucky not to be killed."

Jenna ignored the comment made by Falco. "The pilots from the Academy are hard workers, Falco. Most of them take cargo jobs that are far beneath their abilities just to pay the bills. I'm sure there's at least one pilot we could bring onto the team."

Falco rolled his eyes. "I know the feeling! I was there myself. I was so damn poor back then I couldn't even afford one lousy beer. I wouldn't wish that kind of life even on my worst enemies. I doubt Corneria's gotten any better since I left the Academy."

Falco looked around and found two spikey-haired wolves injecting drugs into their bodies, while another was already convulsing on the ground. "Just as I figured," groaned Falco. He turned away from the group, not wanting to get involved.

"What happened?" Jenna asked, oblivious to what Falco saw.

"Nothing," assured Falco. "Anyway, I got the list of contacts you gave me earlier. One of them already got back to me, so I'm meeting him at some bar near the Academy. I'll probably look way out of place there, but what can I do? He seems like a competent guy.

Jenna knew immediately who Falco was talking about. "Can't say I know of him. But do tell me how it goes. I'll have to go now – I don't want to chat too long and raise suspicion."

Falco duly hung up the communicator, wanting to be alone for a bit before he met the pilot Jenna told him about. As the cool wind started to blow in, Falco started to regret coming back to Corneria. "I'd much rather be back in Fichina than back here again," Falco grumbled to himself.

Day turned into night, and Falco slowly made his way towards the bar he was supposed to meet at, ignoring the neon-lit signs along the way. He made his way into a non-descript bar not far from the Academy, hidden in plain sight in the noisy streets.

Falco walked inside and found a few people hanging out inside the front of the bar, not too interested in his appearance. They were already smoking cigarettes and enjoying themselves, and didn't look like the pilot type. Falco quickly moved on and saw others who had leather jackets nearby dragged across their chairs that were very similar to the ones he saw from those just outside the Academy. They all had something that identified that they were from the Academy one way or another. All of them looked just about the same; they all thought they were better than everyone else coming out of that place. It was the same story from each of them. So Falco moved on again.

He looked towards the front of the bar and thought he recognized the bartender, noticing the scar in the right side of his face. Falco quickly turned away as the bartender moved closer to Falco out of coincidence, not wanting the bartender to notice him staring at him. "Whoever this guy is, I don't want to settle any old scores around here," Falco said to himself.

Falco made his way over to the back of the bar, and found much more people sitting and chatting and drinking pints of what Falco quickly knew was watered down beer. Falco could smell the stench of the badly-brewed stuff all across the room. Most of the people there were most likely very young; some possibly even underage for drinking, judging from their barely visible stubble on their faces. "Not surprising they don't check for ID here," chuckled Falco quietly.

At that point, one of the drinkers there stumbled up towards Falco, trying to convince Falco to join them as she carried a pint of beer in her hand. " _Heyy budd, how about a nice cold one?"_ she slurred.

Falco shook his head in response, not wanting to get into a conversation with someone less than half his age. He didn't want to even think about being in a strong conversation with someone looking to get into bed with him. It reminded him too much of his own past life, when all he cared about was the size of the women he was scoring with.

As much as Falco wanted to forget about his past, he couldn't help but keep being reminded of his ex-wife, even for a moment. The glass-toting woman looked a lot like his ex did, which sent shivers down Falco's spine. It brought back memories Falco would rather forget.

Falco ambled around the bar, searching for the pilot he was going to meet up with, but found more of the same sex-driven animals around him.  _"Maybe I'll send out a cargo job ad in the morning,"_  Falco thought to himself, ignoring the looks from most of the drunken women in the bar. Despite the people shouting and yelling around, he couldn't help but notice that the place felt dead and lifeless at the same time, almost as if being there was the dullest thing on earth.

Falco was thinking in a completely different world, leaning on the wall on one of the benches, when one of the drinkers from the same group that the woman came from earlier came over and tried to convince Falco to join in again.

"You look like someone who needs a drink," he said enthusiastically, being much more sober than the woman before.

"Here?" Falco replied. "I don't need drinks right now." Falco then noticed he had a badge on the sleeve on his jacket, but it wasn't from the Academy. It was from some other gang that Falco didn't quite recognize, but presumably they flew around in ships, given there was a ship proudly displayed on the badge.

"Come on," the drinker insisted, not caring about his age. "At least prove to me you know how to shoot pool."

_I suck at pool,_ Falco thought to himself. "Fine," he snarled, "if it makes you feel happy. It's not like I have anything else to do at this point. Let's see what I got."

Falco grabbed the closest cue he could find, and got to the table that was nearby him. Scuffing the tip of the cue with the blue chalk for no good reason, he took aim at the cue ball and tried to aim for the red ball that was located on the other end of the table. Falco shot powerfully, but missed his target by a considerable margin.

The two passersby looked briefly in jest, then returned to their normal lives. Falco simply shrugged and gave no explanation for the miss.

"Come on, you can shoot again," the drinker offered.

"You sure? I'm not exactly the best shot in town," Falco admitted, noting to himself the irony of the statement immediately afterwards in reference to his piloting skills.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to," the drinker replied back.

Falco set the cue ball back to where it was and aimed for the same ball he aimed for earlier, wanting to make up for his last effort. This time, he shot the cue ball more slowly than the first time, but shot directly at the ball and had it bounce directly off the wall, only for it to return to the cue ball and stopping it right in its tracks.

Falco shrugged his hands in defeat once again. "Maybe we can try something else," Falco suggested to the drinker, putting the cue back on the wall and sitting himself back down again.

One of the beefy security men got into the back and walked to where the drinker and Falco were, and didn't look at all pleased.

"Hey, are you going to order something or what?" the security guy groaned. "Boss says you gotta order something to stay inside. This ain't a social club."

"Relax, buddy," Falco reluctantly replied to the bouncer. "I'll order something at the front, ok? I'll go see the boss himself."

Falco got out of the back room and went towards the front of the bar, back to where he found the drunkards sitting over the table from before. The bartender didn't notice Falco at first but then made his way over very slowly, much like the rest of the customers.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked grudgingly.

"Straight whisky," Falco answered.

The bartender looked behind him to face the empty glass bottles, none of which had any whiskey. "Wish I could help you there, but I don't have a cellar here. Just buy what you see, fella," the bartender said, moving his eyes to point at the hastily written chalkboard menu above him.

"Scotch and soda, then," Falco sighed. After receiving the drink, their eyes met for a split second.  _"That can't be…"_ thought Falco. _"Is that Panther? I thought that bastard was dead a long time ago."_  Falco was taken aback, holding down his shock as much as he could.  _"I'd better get out of his sight before he starts to recognize me,"_  Falco thought to himself.

Falco looked for a table to sit down by and meditate to himself with away from the rest of the partiers when his communicator rang away even amongst the crowd and chatter in the bar. Falco put his drink down and grabbed his communicator, noticing the ID of the caller. It was the same guy who contacted him earlier in the day.

"Hello?" Falco yelled at the communicator.

"Hey, where are ya?" the caller asked. "I'm at the bar like I said I would!"

"So am I," Falco replied. "Where exactly are you?"

"I'm near the back somewhere, with a red shirt," the caller responded, identifying himself.

Falco rolled his eyes. "Ah, ok, I was there earlier, I must have missed you. I'm on my way." Falco hung up the communicator and put it in his side pocket, then grabbed his drink again and went to the back room.

The guy in the red shirt was there like he said he was – the same guy who tried playing pool with him earlier.

"You've got to be shitting me," Falco said out loud to himself.

Falco walked up to the red shirted man, pretending not to feel embarrassed. "You just called me now?" he asked, trying to act like they had never seen before.

The red shirted man turned to Falco and looked shocked. He definitely remembered from five minutes before, even in his semi-drunken state.

"You could have said something to me," the red shirted man stated sarcastically.

"Wanted to make an entrance, I guess," Falco replied. "Greg, right?"

"Yeah, Greg Morgan," he replied. "Just got out of the Academy two weeks ago. Haven't been more thankful before in my life."

Just then a couple of drunken patrons started fighting with each other randomly, and one of the patrons ended up finding themselves laying down on the floor, with his nose covered in blood.

"And you thought this place was a good place to meet because?" Falco chipped.

"Cheapest pint of beer in all of Corneria," Greg answered.

"I can tell," Falco responded.

The bartender left his post at the front of the bar and made his way towards the patron on the ground, pulling him upright and onto a chair. The bloodied patron was still conscious, but obviously very disoriented from the punch.

"Let's get out of here before more people start to show up," Falco insisted to Greg. "We could probably find a place to sit and chat elsewhere around here. You mentioned that you're glad to be done at the Academy?"

"Yeah," Greg replied, "after seeing one of my buddies go off the deep end and get into trouble, I felt that the Academy didn't really help out people when they needed them most. He left the Academy not too long after that. It's a shame, because he was a much better pilot than I was."

"What did he do?" Falco reluctantly asked.

"I think he got into a fight with a homeless man," Greg responded. "I'm not too sure of the full details. The Academy was all very hush about it."

Falco rolled his eyes. "Sounds like he got what he deserved."

"He seemed pretty normal before then, though. But something wasn't quite right with him, you know?"

"I wouldn't think too much about him," Falco dismissed. "You settle your bills yet?"

"Yeah, I paid for my drinks when I got them," said Greg. "Where did you have in mind?"

Falco didn't answer right away to Greg's question as he was still looking at the bartender, who was still cleaning up after the mess the two patrons made. He gauged whether or not to approach him again, but figured the bartender didn't either notice who he was, or simply didn't care.

"You know that guy?" asked Greg, pointing at the bartender.

"Maybe. I thought he was dead," explained Falco, "but clearly he isn't right now. If this is who I think it is… I don't want to go anywhere near him. This gives us another reason to get out of here and scram," he said, walking back towards the exit.

The two of them were out of the bar, and started walking aimlessly, half looking for somewhere to sit and relax, but Greg wasn't interested in waiting much longer.

"You said you had a cargo job available?" Greg hesitantly asked.

Falco scratched the back of his neck, cautious about his next choice of words. "It's not your traditional cargo job… We're not shipping food or anything menial. Rather, we're shipping other stuff, I guess."

"What other stuff?" Greg questioned.

Falco stopped walking and turned towards Greg. "Information."

"Information? For what, exactly?"

"I can't say too much here, because there's always someone prying for any kind of lead they can get. But there's a good possibility Fichina can be transformed into a planet far more capable than what it already is right now."

"That frozen place?" Greg joked. "The only thing worthwhile there are the icebergs!"

"Yes, at the moment," explained Falco, as they started walking again. "It'll take too long to explain, but there's some information we can get on a base located there that we can use to figure out  _how_ to make that planet more valuable. We get the information, then we decide from there what to do with it. I even got a couple of scientists to help figure out where to go  _if_  we get the info in one piece."

" _If?_ Sounds dangerous. Do we at least have decent ships?"

"Just your standard dual lasers," Falco sighed.

"Dual lasers!" Greg said excitingly. "Wow, you must be serious about this, then! Sounds like a good plan. Where are we going to meet to discuss this further?"

"My ship," Falco replied. "It isn't much but it does the job."

Greg almost looked stunned. "You're not seriously considering flying after having a drink?"

"Pah, there was barely any scotch in that scotch and soda," Falco joked. "It's not like you're in any better condition."


	17. Chapter 17

The events leading up to this day always stuck with Marcus, given that he nearly killed himself back on Corneria, before ending up with Robert and Star Wolf. He didn't want to think about that dark day, but couldn't help thinking that Robert saved his life, and shuddered at the thought of being dead - a definition so finite, so absolute, a decision completely irreversible.

Still, he was very nervous with himself, since Star Wolf was about to embark on a robbery on one of the biggest vaults in Venom, owned and guarded by the Republican Army. The plan was simple; take down the four guard towers on the perimeter of the vault, then have two of the pilots head in and get the money and gold from there. The other two would stand guard up above and notify if there was reinforcements coming in. Wolf was the best pilot in the Lylat System, and Duncan was smart enough to easily shoot down anyone that came in his path. Robert would man the radar to check for enemies and also send down any lasers from the mother ship if necessary. That left him and Michelle to go into the vault itself.

Marcus opened up the intercom so that he could talk to Robert and Robert only. "He's probably the only guy that would even understand what I've got on my mind," sighed Marcus.

Robert responded to Marcus' call almost immediately. "Something the matter with your Wolfen, Marcus?"

"No," responded Marcus. "I just got a lot on my mind, that's all. I just don't know if this plan is going to work. If this doesn't work, we'll all be in jail for a long time..." the thoughts of him dying crept into Marcus' mind again, going through the scenario of him being arrested. "If anyone else I know finds out I'm with Star Wolf, I don't know what they will say."

"What are you talking about?" Robert sounded confused, even through the intercom. "We'll be fine, Marcus. Even if anyone else finds out, we've got your back."

"I know," sighed Marcus, "but I just feel uneasy about this plan. I mean, we are the  _bad_  guys, after all, and my parents were supposed to be the  _good_  guys, but I'm not really sure anymore..."

Robert rolled his eyes. "Just don't worry about that. Your parents don't mean a thing now. Stick to the plan, and we'll become the good guys. Remember, my dad keeps talking about how great Lylat will be when this is all over when the Republican Army falls."

"That's true," conceded Marcus. "Maybe I'm just getting the nerves. I'd take a drink right about now, but I need to be sober to pilot the ship."

"True, true..." Robert concluded. "Hold on a sec, my dad's trying to patch through to everyone."

"Sounds good, Rob," replied Marcus. "Thanks for the help."

Robert scratched his head. "I'm not sure what I did, but... you're welcome, I guess." The intercom then switched over from Robert to Wolf, the similarities in appearance only now becoming strikingly clear to Marcus.

"Remember, everyone," Wolf spoke on the intercom, "the plan is to get a few pieces from the vault and to destroy the rest. We're not going to get every single thing out of that vault. It would take forever to get absolutely everything out of there. The point isn't to get rich from this operation; the point is to deprive them of the money they've been hoarding all this time. Let the whole galaxy know how much of a pig they are."

"Don't worry," Michelle interrupted, "the remote mines we have ready to go will take the base out with enough firepower. They should see the explosion from a long way out."

"Robert," Wolf asked, "is there anyone nearby the vault on the radar?"

"Can't see anyone worth mentioning at the moment," Robert answered. "No ships within a few miles from the area. There's a couple of gunships but nothing the Wolfens can't handle. The guard towers are more heavily reinforced than I thought. Our lasers will get through but only at very close range. Aiming might be hit and miss."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Duncan joked. "Wish we had smart bombs so that we can just blast right through them."

"Alright," Wolf said commandingly. "Check the G-diffuser systems; we don't want anything to go wrong at the worst time. Mine's all good."

"Mine's working perfectly," Michelle confirmed quickly.

Marcus went through the diagnostics of the Wolfen, giving the G-diffuser a quick test to ensure that the operation was fully capable and efficient so that the ship could run properly.

"G-diffuser is working well for me," Duncan said on the intercom.

Marcus' G-diffuser was functional, but he could tell that a lot of harsh driving might cause it to fail. "I could get out in a hurry if I had to," Marcus said to himself, out of earshot from the intercom. "If I ride this full blast for a long time, though, the engines will overheat." Marcus thought to himself for a few seconds about the engines, but concluded that backing down now was not an option.

"G-diffuser is reading well," Marcus finally stated. Saying otherwise would have meant he wouldn't have been able to do much in the air. Marcus didn't think that he would get involved in a dogfight for very long, though, because he was confident that he could get out of a jam if he needed to, and since he was going to be on the ground soon, he didn't need to use his full power until right at the very end.

"Ok then," Wolf started, "Let's quiet down the engines for a bit. Sneak in as much as we can while we're under the radar."

"About that," Robert interrupted, "a few scout ships just appeared on long range scanners heading towards the vault. We'll have a bit of company…"

"How many are there?" Wolf asked.

"Maybe about eight of them," Robert answered.

"That's nothing," Duncan said confidently, "we can take care of those people no problem at all!"

"Why don't you take care of the scout ships, then," Marcus offered, "then Michelle and I can get rid of the guard towers."

"Sounds like a plan," Michelle replied.

"Alright, then, let's do this!" Marcus barked on the intercom. The Republican scout ships appeared on their short range scanners, and it was inevitable that the scouts and the team would meet head-on. Marcus and Michelle waited back while Duncan and Wolf sprinted ahead.

Duncan made sure he was on the private channel with Wolf on his radio before speaking. "What a rookie," Duncan grumbled, referring to Marcus.

"Doesn't lack for confidence, I guess," Wolf replied hastily. He had more important things on his mind. Two of the scout ships then split off from the rest of the pack and darted towards Wolf and Duncan. "Watch out," Wolf shouted, "they're heading towards us fast!" Wolf charged up a shot and quickly shot the blast towards the two scout ships, hitting one of them and sending it down towards the ground. The second ship then turned around and zoomed away.

Duncan was able to take aim at the ship running away and took shots at it with his lasers. "Too scared, huh?" he joked.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself just yet," Wolf said to Duncan.

At the back, Marcus had noticed his engines were on par with Michelle's. Michelle had always kept her Wolfen up to shape and in flawless condition, and always took the time to repair every single detail of the ship, even if it meant taking a few hours late at night to do so. For a moment, Marcus wished he had learned more about keeping maintenance of his ship; he knew the basic procedures but didn't really know how to completely overhaul the engine if he needed to. For a moment, he wished to be able to fix the ships for a living, if only to prevent him from getting stuck in the Academy.

Marcus took a quick look over at Michelle as he brought his Wolfen right beside each other. She was staring straight ahead, not noticing Marcus looking in to her cockpit. There was that steel-eyed glare of determination and focus that Marcus had learned to be afraid of. He was just thankful he was on her side of the battle this time.

"Take the left side, Marcus," Michelle said, as she veered her Wolfen towards the right side of the vault.

Marcus turned away from Michelle and moved towards the left of the vault, noting the locations of the guard towers. It was just as heavily guarded as he feared, since there was a small opening in the top of the tower where snipers could pop in and look around the area. Shooting through there with the hot lasers at just the right angle would cause the whole building to explode. Four downed towers and the gates would be open to enter freely.

Marcus started taking shots towards one of the towers, but kept hitting the sides of the steel barricades. "It's more reinforced than I thought," Marcus said quietly to himself. Just as he said that, Marcus heard an explosion occurring behind him, and turned his head to check the back of his engine. "Oh no, what now?" he grumbled. He couldn't see any smoke coming out, though, and his dashboard showed no problems…

"Got one!" Michelle yelled on the intercom.

Marcus checked his radar and found one of the guard towers had been taken down, smouldering in flames. Marcus was astonished at how quickly Michelle took down the tower, given they had only started the operation about a minute ago. Marcus kept the wreckage from the tower out of his sight and swung his Wolfen back around to face his tower again. Taking more shots with his laser, he managed to scare away some of the officers working on the tower, but still could not damage the building. Undeterred, Marcus kept going back and forth, alternating between sending quick shots with the lasers and sending one big charge shot, alternating between the two methods.

While this was going on, a small dogfight had brewed between Wolf and a couple of enemy fighters. Marcus kept cycling back and forth between striking at the guard tower and watching the dogfight with Wolf. It took a minute for Marcus to take his eyes off the dogfight, but Marcus then thought about the mission they had cut out ahead of themselves. So Marcus returned to firing at the guard tower again, but found no better luck.

"The towers seem heavily guarded," Marcus messaged on the intercom. "How did you get rid of the first one, Michelle?"

"I'm having trouble with my second tower," Michelle replied. "Maybe I just got lucky with the first one. If you just fire at the right angle, maybe you can go through the small opening, hit the roof, and hopefully deflect the shot from the inside so that it hits the middle of the center of the tower."

Marcus took that explanation Michelle had and figured that was the best way to get a shot inside the tower. The only problem with that was that the only way to get underneath the roof of the tower was to take the ship down really low. It wasn't that he was scared of riding that fast at low altitudes; it was that he wasn't sure of the Wolfen's manoeuvrability. Marcus learned it was very important to be able to dive out of the way very quickly if necessary when riding very low, and Marcus hadn't tested the Wolfen's abilities to get out of the way very quickly.

Still, the terrain was very flat, and there weren't any other objects as far as Marcus could see, so he felt it was reasonable to take a few chances by taking his Wolfen very low. He could see the ground and dirt swirling past him underneath the ship as he went towards the tower shooting frantically, hoping to get a hit inside.

The lasers bounced off the underside of the roof, but came out of the other side and out of the tower. Marcus kept shooting until had to dive out of the way of the tower as he sped towards it, narrowly missing it. He had little time to catch his breath when a few enemies came rushing out from the horizon and descended towards the Star Wolf team.

"Looks like they're coming straight out of warp," Robert stated on the intercom. "There isn't that many of them but they're fast!"

Marcus nervously switched his engine to get the most power out of his engine. "Don't have much choice, then, I guess," he said to himself, believing that it wouldn't take much abuse. One of the enemies immediately found Marcus soon after he switched modes, and Marcus blasted off as fast as he could while the enemy followed close behind. Marcus then pulled his Wolfen up and looped backwards, so that he went over the enemy and ended up behind the enemy, where he was able to shoot directly at the enemy's engines, taking him out of service. One of the towers was nearby, so Marcus went down near the ground again and took shots at the tower. The laser went into the underside of the roof and went inside easily, then exploded from the inside. A direct hit.

"Yes!" Marcus exclaimed. He didn't have much time to celebrate, though, as two more towers remained, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Duncan was having trouble with three enemies vying to shoot him down.

Without thinking or saying anything, Marcus blasted upwards to the dogfight and shot right at the group in an attempt to distract them, but one of the shots hit near an enemy's cockpit and the pilot dove out of the formation, retreating to the distance. Duncan was then able to manoeuvre his Wolfen out of the way and swing around behind the formation and take some shots from there. Duncan hit one of the ships, while the other took notice of his reduced fleet and got out of the picture while he still could.

"Jeez," Duncan said to himself, catching his breath. "That wasn't one of my proudest moments there. How the hell did that kid see me in trouble from there?" Duncan looked around to see where Marcus went. "Where'd ya go?" Duncan said on the intercom.

Marcus didn't respond, because the engines were now going into overload thanks to his impromptu rescue mission. He could still fly the ship reasonably well, but the speed had to be greatly reduced to cool the engines down. He was high enough to see the vault and the guard towers, and saw Michelle shoot down the third tower, leaving only one left remaining. Marcus checked his radar and saw the enemy ships were few and far between. Confident that Wolf and Duncan would take care of anyone around him, Marcus slowly descended his Wolfen down to ground level. Michelle had already made her way towards the final tower and tried shooting at it, but had no luck and had to swing her ship out of the way.

Shortly after getting to ground level, Marcus lost track of where he was and swung out of the way of one of the towers that had already been shot down and turned into rubble. Then he saw lasers coming from behind him and realized there had been an enemy behind him all this time. Marcus pulled a quick U-turn and shot right past the unsuspecting pilot, then went towards the remaining guard tower and carefully aimed his lasers.

Suddenly his engines cut out and stopped running. He was now gliding in the air. "That's odd," Marcus said, as the enemy ship zipped by him in the opposite direction. "I don't recall being hit by anyone…" Then Marcus could hear some ominous beeping coming from the side of the ship. It was a mine!

Without hesitation, Marcus ejected from his Wolfen and sprung himself up into the air. As the parachute deployed on what remained of his seat, the Wolfen dove straight into the final guard tower, with the front of the ship diving inwards to the tower. A couple of seconds passed before the mine exploded, taking out the Wolfen and the guard tower with it. The final guard tower fell.

Marcus landed harshly onto the ground, first onto his feet before the momentum of the parachute pushed him forward, and Marcus fell lightly and faceplanted into the dirt. He took a knife out and tore all the cloth and rope that had buried him as he landed. "Damn, if the engines didn't fail on me, I wouldn't have noticed the mine they planted..." Marcus put the knife back in his jacket and pulled out the blaster which had always been inside his pocket, made sure it was set to stun, and headed towards the vault and away from the burning wreckage of the Wolfen, which was about 10 minutes away on foot.

Not seeing anyone around him on foot, Marcus looked up to the grey skies and checked to see if there were any enemy ships above him. There were a handful, but most were already in battles with the rest of the Star Wolf crew. Marcus started running towards the vault, carrying his blaster with him.

Michelle noticed Marcus' Wolfen crashed into the final guard tower, and started fishing out with her scanners to find any kind of distress signal. With Marcus nowhere near the crash site, they had no way of finding out if he was even dead or alive.

"Marcus crashed his ship into one of the towers," Michelle indicated on the intercom. "I can't tell if he made it or not. Should I search the area?"

Wolf looked outside his cockpit and noticed the crash site as he was high in the sky. "We haven't much time until the rest of the brigade comes in. Go to the vault and continue as planned. Duncan and I will keep watch."

"You can't even get Duncan down here?" Michelle asked sternly.

"We need all the eyes we can get in case the Republican Army shows up earlier than expected," Wolf explained. "Just continue onwards and let me know when you're out of there. Robert," he asked, "do you see any body heat signals from that wreckage?"

Robert zoomed in his long-range scanners as he circled above the vault on the main ship of the team. "Don't see anybody inside that wreckage, even a dead one."

"He must have gotten out somehow, then," Wolf concluded. "If he's smart, he should make his way towards the vault, then."

Michelle didn't reply to Wolf's message, as she descended down towards the front of the vault and shot right at the main doors. With the guard towers not being able to protect the vault, the main doors were able to be freely shot at, and the heat of the lasers melted the doors slightly until Michelle stopped firing briefly, then the doors quickly cooled back down again. Michelle resumed firing, but the doors then easily broke away, as the heating and cooling made the metal very brittle. Michelle landed her Wolfen and continued inside the vault by herself.

The vault was well guarded on the outside but practically bare on the inside. Most of the people who were working inside the vault had run away or gone elsewhere to try and protect what they could. When Michelle ran inside, there was a hapless clerk who was practically shaking when Michelle pointed a rifle directly at the chap. "Get me the passcode for the main gate," Michelle ordered. She had a decryptor just in case he refused to give the passcode, but it was much easier and quicker to simply have the code punched in by someone else.

Naturally, given the state of the clerk, he obliged and let Michelle into the vault, and Michelle took her rifle and shot it at the first door, blasting off the lock in the process. Two officers ran towards her outside the door, but Michelle quickly shot the officers down with the rifle, hardly breaking a sweat. She grabbed a grenade from her pocket and threw it through the open door and down the hallway before ducking into a corner to shield her eyes. The grenade exploded and soon there were a few groans heard all across the hallway, as the grenade temporarily blinded the guards inside there, which allowed Michelle to run inside and access the central computer, which opened up all the rooms for anyone to access. To make sure it wouldn't be closed again for a long time, she bugged the software so that nobody could access the security protocols for a while.

Michelle then found a map that was used for the workers to navigate around, and was confused by the complex layout. So she found the closest clerk nearby and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"Where can I find Republican credits?" she scowled.

The clerk was extremely confused, shaking his head and pleading for her not to harm him anymore.

"Don't make me repeat again!" Michelle yelled. "Where are the Republican credits?"

The clerk didn't respond to her question. Michelle then threw the clerk down and rammed his head onto the desk, knocking him unconscious. "Damn," she growled, "I guess I'll have to find it myself." Just then, she heard some scuffling coming from the entrance of the hallway. Michelle grabbed a grenade and threw it towards the entrance, sending guards flying as the grenade exploded when the guards came running inside. But a couple more guards came in right behind them, and they were both much larger and more muscular than the guards before them. They closed in on Michelle and she grabbed another grenade, ready to throw it between the two guards if necessary.

Before Michelle could act, however, a couple of shots rang out from behind the guards, and the guards fell over easily. Michelle saw a couple of burn marks on each of their necks; the shots were set to stun, not to kill. "Who the hell shot that? They'll be back on their feet in a few minutes, if not sooner." She turned to the back of the hallway and found Marcus there.

"How the hell did you get out of that crash?" Michelle asked confusingly.

"Quick thinking, I guess," shrugged Marcus. "You find out where the main source of the Republican credits is?"

"Not yet. They're not exactly the most cooperative people," she explained, pointing at the clerk she dealt with earlier.

Marcus looked at the clerk, noticing that his head wasn't facing in the right direction, and pretended not to focus on him.

"Did you get anything out of the Wolfen before it crashed?" Michelle asked.

"I didn't have much time," Marcus admitted, "I only got my blaster out, which was in my pocket. All the grenades and what not were in the Wolfen when it crashed."

Michelle realized what had happened. "Ejected out of there, huh?"

"Wouldn't call it one of my proudest moments," Marcus sighed.

"Never mind," she bickered, handing Marcus a grenade. "Just take this, I used a couple already, and I don't have much left for myself."

Marcus dutifully put the grenade inside his pocket, while Michelle carefully turned on her communicator and went to the entrance of the hallway to make sure there wasn't anyone else hanging around, as well as to get a strong signal to communicate to the mother ship of the team.

"Send down a few mines, Robert, will ya?" Michelle spoke through the earpiece which was carefully hidden behind her ears.

"Got it," Robert spoke back, and within a few seconds, a small and light box appeared in front of the main gates, not far from where Michelle was, and transported from the  _Amethyst_. Michelle ran towards the box and grabbed it, taking it to the hallway where Marcus was.

"Best thing to do would to probably go to the center of this place, wherever it is, and plant the mines accordingly as we make our way out," Michelle said. "If we manage to find Republican credits, so be it, but if not, we'll make do with something else."

Marcus nodded in agreement, and they both made their way down the circular hallways, where they went through each of the cells that had covered the backs of each room, containing something of monetary value to the Republican Army. Sometimes it was gold, other times it was big things like machinery or other artifacts that were too big for them to realistically carry.

They reached a normal looking vault at the end of the hallway they were travelling down in. The vault was more than likely made of thick steel, with the shine reflecting the two pilot's images back to them.

"I think this might be where the Republican credits are located," Marcus guessed. There wasn't any kind of identification to mark what exactly the vault contained.

"One way to find out," said Michelle, taking one of the mines from the boxes and placing it on the vault. "They're very powerful, so stand back."

Marcus obliged and ran back to behind one of the cells which had been laid open to protect from the incoming blast. Michelle armed the mine and ran to the same cell, nearly tripping over Marcus as she ran through. Once she ducked for cover, the mine exploded, sending a huge shockwave across the entire building, and blasting the vault open.

The vault was open, but inside, there were a few pieces of gold and some more artifacts.

"Damn," Michelle scowled, "most of this isn't any good to us. It's too valuable to be sold without anyone taking notice." She picked up one of the pieces of gold, big enough to just cover her hand, and wiped off some of the small debris that had been blown onto it from the mine exploding.

Marcus noticed that the cell he was in contained some kind of cash. It wasn't Republican credits, which was the main cash being used in Lylat, simply because it was the most stable currency in the entire galaxy. There were a few stacks of 100 dollar bills of a currency he wasn't familiar with, so Marcus grabbed a few and put them inside his jacket.

"There isn't much we can take from here," Michelle said to Marcus as she walked out of the vault. "The walls around here are too thick that using all the mines on this point wouldn't do anything. But I did find a map of the whole place in here, and I found that there's a bunch of volatile materials and chemicals not far from where we are… If we set off the mines there, we can blow this whole place up."

"Sounds like a plan," Marcus replied immediately, as he was handed the box of mines.

The two went down the hallway, and even before they got to the room, they could smell the chemicals reeking from the room the map said that they were in. Again, the room was unmarked, but there was no mistaking that this was the place they needed to plant their mines at.

"Do you think it's necessary to get into the room itself?" asked Marcus, trying his best not to get too disgusted at the smell.

"It's too risky," Michelle admitted, "blasting the door off with a mine could set off the chemicals too early. We'll just do what we can from here. The door is locked in due to the security alarm." Michelle tried looking into the small bulletproof glass window that was located in the center of the door. "There's a bunch of gasoline and gas tanks all around here," she observed. "Even a small flame around here would blow up the entire place up."

"I'll set up the remote switch," Marcus offered. He put one mine onto the door and set the mine so that it would only go off when the two went a certain distance away from the mine itself. The mine beeped a couple of times before a yellow light signified that the remote switch was ready to go.

"Now we just need to get the rest of the mines set up," explained Marcus. Before he could continue on, though, there were a bunch of guards that could be heard running down the hallway.

"Get your blaster," ordered Michelle, "and make sure those mines are well out of the way."

"Right," said Marcus, as he took the box of mines and looked for a place to hide it.

"Just put it to one side of the wall," insisted Michelle.

Marcus put the box of mines down against the wall as he was told, and pulled out his blaster as well as the grenade Michelle gave him earlier. He looked at the grenade and grimaced. "A smoke grenade?" he questioned out loud.

"Might work in this situation," explained Michelle, "it could give us a bit of time to install the mines without them seeing us."

A few blaster shots from afar interrupted their planning, and Marcus and Michelle picked opposite walls to lean back against to make themselves smaller targets. Michelle took a few shots, while Marcus waited for the majority of the guards to arrive so that he could throw the smoke grenade, but still took the occasional shot with his blaster. Once the guards took a few breaths to reset themselves, Marcus installed a couple of mines, going as quickly as he could so that they could get out themselves.

"Throw the grenade!" Michelle barked, still shooting at the guards.

Marcus pulled the pin of the smoke grenade and whipped it right at the guards. It hit one of them square in the chest, and the guard took the grenade from the ground and threw it right back. Michelle kicked the grenade back at the guards as it came barrelling down the hallway towards them, and by the time the guard tried to throw it back again, the smoke stung his eyes as if it was being wrung through sandpaper, and he grimaced in pain, along with the rest of the guards around him.

Michelle then went towards the door again and started installing mines across the door, with Marcus quickly following suit. They continued on until there were no more mines left to plant.

"We gotta find a catalyst to ignite the place up in case this door doesn't blast through," Michelle said.

Marcus remembered of what was nearby the first vault they were in. "I remember seeing a tank of propane back where we were," Marcus stated. "If it goes off in the right direction, it'll shoot right past that door. Even if it makes a small dent it will still let some of the explosion inside that room, igniting the chemicals."

"Go get it, then," Michelle ordered. "I'll keep track of everything around here."

Marcus went down to the room they blew up earlier, retracing his steps back. He kept checking to see if there was anyone behind him or around him, as he didn't have much time on his hands before the rest of the Republican Army came by, and he didn't want to get into a long fight.

After returning to the vault he was in before, he found the propane tank he had noticed out of the corner of his eye. He also checked back to find the stack of cash he found earlier, and took another stack and quickly studied it more carefully. On the stack it said, "Cornerian Dollars." Those hadn't been in print in years.

Marcus sighed to himself. "Well, at least it will get us a few extra change," he concluded, figuring he could get some money from avid currency collectors.

Just then he could hear something clunking down on the floor, as if somebody had dropped something on the ground. Marcus put down the propane tank he was carrying and took out his blaster as a precaution. He could sense somebody was in the room nearby him, waiting to sneak up from behind. He turned around and didn't find anybody immediately there, but still looked around, staying alert and on guard while scanning the room. Marcus turned around for a quick second and sensed someone quickly sneaking up around him, so he whipped back around and smacked the guard with his blaster. The guard took a heavy hit but was still able to hit Marcus' blaster out of his hand and sent it flying across the room.

Having no choice, Marcus threw some punches at the guard, but the guard kept blocking every move, no matter which direction they seemed to move. The guard even landed some punches onto his chest and stomach, but the two kept fighting as if nothing could affect him, even if he could feel each punch vibrate through his body. It was when the guard connected a blow right in the face that really set him off; not that it was any harder than any of the rest of the punches, but the time restraint and the culmination of the hits he took came to a head, and made Marcus take decisive action.

The guard tried to hit Marcus on the face again, but Marcus was able to push the guy's arm out of the way in time. He then grabbed the guard's arm so that it wouldn't move, and elbowed the guy in the same place he was punched himself earlier. For good measure, Marcus swung his arm back around and hit the guard again, but the guard broke loose of the grip that was on his arm, and the two grappled with each other freely again. Now, they were simply landing as much pain on each other as they could. They kept struggling and fighting each other, giving all the energy they could just to survive. Marcus could feel the tension rise with each punch and each bone crunching hit that he took that raised his fury more and more, until finally, he snapped.

In an instant, Marcus exploded in a rage of anger, beating up the guard with enough strength to knock him away. That hesitation gave Marcus enough time to rear back and smash the guard in the head, sending him knocking down to the ground. But it didn't satisfy his bloodthirst. Marcus flew down and pinned the guard down with his knee on his chest, and started beating the guard senselessly, one punch after another in increasing strength. In that moment, there was nothing but the urge to totally annihilate the guard, punishing him for getting in his way. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to keep going right at him until his head was split into two.

It was when he took a look at the mutilated face of the guard that he figured out that the guard wasn't going to move on his own any time soon. Marcus stopped punching and saw a fair amount of blood all across the floor around the guard. Marcus was still boiling inside when he got back up from the floor and simply looked down at the barely conscious guard. There was nothing around them to disturb them, so he simply looked at the guard, left in his own thoughts. Soon his primal instincts faded away and the reality of the situation set in.

"I've got to get that tank back quickly," Marcus realized. He grabbed his blaster and the tank, and ran back to the door where Michelle was. He nearly slipped a few times but kept going, going as fast as he could at all costs. He got back to the door and saw Michelle catching her breath, while three more guards were lying down, presumably unconscious from being beaten up.

"Sorry, got caught up along the way," Marcus said, out of breath.

"Thanks," Michelle said to Marcus, taking the propane tank from him. "We can't stay here for too long, though. I think the reinforcements are coming."

The two nodded in agreement, and once the propane tank was set up in the right position, they both set outside and ran to the front of the building. There wasn't anyone inside the building in their way, but once they got near the exit, it was clear the reinforcements had arrived, as there was the sound of planes and helicopters hovering over them. The two looked at each other and figured it was a bad idea to walk outside. They snuck around the sides of the walls of the hallway, peeking outside very carefully to check if there was anyone nearby.

Michelle could see her Wolfen not far from the entrance, but a couple of henchmen were nearby carrying rifles. The henchmen were checking the Wolfen, seeing if the owner would arrive soon, and trying to figure out how to break into it as well.

"What's the next step, then?" Marcus asked Michelle quietly.

"I got a good idea," Michelle replied. "Let me set up my scope on my blaster." She took out the scope and carefully put it on the blaster, so as to not create any extra noise in front of the henchmen. Once it was on, Michelle took out another hand grenade and waited until the henchmen were looking away from the front of the entrance, then threw the grenade far away from the Wolfen. When it exploded, the henchmen drew their eyes towards the blast, giving Michelle just enough time to step in front of the entrance and take two quick shots at each of the henchmen, both hitting them in the head, sending them down to the ground. Michelle checked the area again to see if there was anyone else, and once the area was clear, Michelle and Marcus ran towards the Wolfen.

"Guess you need a ride back?" she asked in an obvious manner.

Marcus was the first to enter the cockpit, while Michelle entered right afterwards, sitting right behind him. There was just enough room for the two of them to sit there, with one sitting directly in front of each other.

The cockpit closed and Michelle took her Wolfen up and blasted right off, not wasting any time trying to get away from the building. Marcus got his remote switch out and set it off. Marcus tried to look for the explosion, but he couldn't see outside the cockpit.

"Did the bombs go off?" Marcus yelled over the engines of the Wolfen.

"Probably," answered Michelle, "but with everything we set up there it will take a while for everything to fall together in place."

Just as she said that, Marcus could see out of the corner of his eye a flash of fire coming out of the building. Michelle could see much better, as she could clearly see the explosion coming out of the front of the entrance, as well as flames quickly spreading across the whole area. The building was set ablaze, and some of the crew down at ground level were frantically trying to put it all out in vain.

"Looks like the chemicals in that room are doing their job," Michelle smirked. "They'll be busy for a while. How are things looking up there, Robert?"

It took a few seconds for Robert to reply back on the intercom. "Most of the reinforcements are near the vault, but there's some guys here and there orbiting Venom right now. Wolf and Duncan have already gotten back to the  _Amethyst_. I'd suggest getting back here as soon as possible. You find Marcus anywhere?"

"He's right in front of me," said Michelle, trying not to sound awkward with the confined space in the cockpit. "Can you give the co-ordinates of where you are? You're not showing up on radar."

Robert didn't reply back again instantly. "Just when you need this guy the most," Michelle bickered. Suddenly, the radar started beeping away, and Michelle looked back to see a Republican Army space cruiser trying to hunt them down.

"Great," Michelle shouted to herself.

"This is a state inspection spaceship," the officer boomed on the intercom. "Identify yourself."

"Here," Michelle said to Marcus, handing over the intercom. "Think of something to stall them, I have an idea."

Marcus looked puzzled, but did what he could as ordered. "Hello?" he said in a fake accent. "Who is this? I am travelling on trade mission. No sale today, I'm afraid."

"That's fine," said the officer, "this is just a routine inspection. Do you have the clearance certification to exit orbit?"

Marcus shrugged and scratched his head. "Hold on sir, I'll find it," he replied to the officer, and then shrugged at Michelle, not knowing what to say next.

Michelle fiddled with the controls for a minute, setting up something on the dashboard, while the officer interrupted them impatiently waiting for the clearance code.

"All right," Marcus said on the intercom in his fake accent again. "I got the code. It's 1…" he said, intentionally pausing.

"Go on," the officer insisted.

"2…" Marcus paused again. "Hurry up," Marcus quietly said to Michelle. He was running out of ideas. Not wanting to sound obvious, he started mixing up the numbers a bit. "7, 2, 4, 5, 8... 9?"

There was a pause from the intercom before the officer replied. "Who is this? Your heat signature came from the vault that just exploded."

"Any time now," Marcus yelled to Michelle.

Michelle then vented some plasma out of the back of the Wolfen, and flipped the Wolfen so that it was now hovering above the officer's ship, which had been following them closely at the time. Michelle took a shot at the officer, whose ship had now been covered in plasma, and the ship exploded as the plasma catalysed the blast. The cloud of the explosion gave Michelle the perfect cover to make a great getaway.

"Robert, where are you?" Michelle yelled on the intercom.

"I'm not far from where you are," Robert replied. "Turn off your communications so that you're not being scanned by anyone, especially after that close call of yours. Just head on south of where you are, I'll find you and catch up to you there."

Michelle obliged and shut off her communications, then went down south as planned. Soon she saw the main ship coming from her right, so Michelle simply went behind the ship and went into the docking bay fast, locking the Wolfen inside the launch bay. Both Michelle and Marcus had a few bumps and bruises landing, but they weren't ones to complain right now.

"We're both in," Michelle confirmed to Robert.

Robert closed the docking bay doors and zoomed out into the distance, far away from Venom and the Republican Army forces.

"Looks like there isn't anyone behind us," Robert confirmed, looking at the radar. "We should be good to go."

"Good work," Wolf said to Robert on the bridge. "Everything went as planned as far as I can see. The Army is scrambling right now. Most of them are at Venom right now. They don't know what to do," he said, holding back a chuckle.

Marcus was walking back to the bridge with Michelle, slightly sore from being cramped inside the cockpit. Michelle noticed that Marcus' jacket was slightly thicker than normal and was slightly curious. "What did you bring back?" Michelle asked.

"I found some old Cornerian dollars in the vault," Marcus replied. "I heard there's some places that still carry that as usable cash, but I'm not sure of how much I brought back. I only got a few stacks, so I'm not sure how much I got back, if anything."

"I'm not too sure," Michelle said, shaking her head. "I know it was used years ago. Wolf might know, he's pretty knowledgeable about that kind of stuff."

"Ok," Marcus replied, "maybe I'll show it to him."

"While you were getting the propane tank I grabbed a couple of bars of gold," Michelle explained, showing one of them off to Marcus. "It'll get us by for the next couple of months. I'm not sure if I'll sell it or use it for electrical circuits. It's good conductor material."

The two arrived on the bridge, with Duncan right at the door minding his own business, not expecting them to be on the bridge. Duncan saw Michelle and showed a rare smile, glad to see them. "Hey, you made it!" he said to Michelle, giving a quick fist bump. Duncan then went to Marcus. "Not bad for your first  _real_  outing, huh?"

"Not bad, I guess," Marcus replied, not wanting to boast too much. He knew that he destroyed his Wolfen. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain that situation to Wolf. Marcus tried to play down his accomplishments, but it didn't exactly translate well to Duncan. After a minute, Marcus decided it was best to simply leave and move on.

He did admit it was rather conflicting for Marcus that day. Yes, the team did blow up that vault and cause quite a mess for the Republican Army, who was now probably scrambling to figure out exactly what had happened, and how to recover from the humiliation. But he  _did_ destroy that Wolfen of his, however. The only way he felt he was going to solve this was a decent amount of sleep. He was pretty tired, after nearly being killed half a dozen times back on Venom, so even a quick nap would probably help him get a clearer mind.

Still, he was lying down in his bed, still wide awake and unable to let his mind drift away. There wasn't any particular area his mind was stuck on; it kept jumping from subject to subject, unable to disconnect himself from his worries. First there was the destroyed Wolfen still smoldering away back at Venom, then there's the guard that probably hates him now after he beat him up to a pulp inside the vault (if he hadn't been killed by the explosion), then there's trying to figure out how to get that old money exchanged without getting arrested, then there's that certain dread hovering over him if his dad ever found out about what he just did with Wolf, of all people. All this was making his head spin.

He was still wide awake when his door pounded. Marcus knew that knock from memory by now. He slowly got up from the bed and went towards the door, then pressed the unlock button to open up the door.

"You need something?" Marcus asked to Wolf.

"No," Wolf replied, "I was simply wondering where you were. Didn't get the chance to see you for a bit after you got back."

Marcus was scratching the back of his head, feeling very nervous and trying to phrase his next words carefully. "So, about what happened…"

"Don't spare me the details," Wolf interrupted. "I've heard all the excuses."

Marcus didn't dare speak another word in reply. He looked downwards towards the floor, embarrassed at himself.

"Only thing I'm interested in is what you got from the vault," Wolf insisted. "Michelle told me you got some money from there."

Marcus went into his cabinet and got the stacks of money out of there and handed them to Wolf without question.

"It's probably better that it's kept in a safe place for now, in case some pirates take over the ship. Not that's it's going to happen, but you never know."

"Hear anything from the Army about this yet?" Marcus asked, trying to change the subject.

"Naturally, the Army thinks the Venomians did it," Wolf replied. "It's all going as planned. The Army doesn't know a thing about us. Soon the people of Venom will be able to see exactly how these pigs are taking advantage of them. They've all had enough being treated like second-class citizens. Soon they will turn and rise up against them. It is only a matter of time."

Marcus was nodding, listening to each of Wolf's words, but Wolf could still sense there was some doubt left in Marcus' head, as his head was still pointed downwards to the ground.

"Listen to me!" Wolf shouted, grabbing Marcus' shoulders to get his attention. "Get rid of the doubt that you have in yourself! Remember, you're just as powerful as everyone else in the galaxy! Don't let anyone else, especially someone from the Republican Army bully you into thinking otherwise. Their power comes from greed and fear. Our power, on the other hand, comes from knowing the truth about how messed up this galaxy is. And soon we will have Venom on our side again, and we'll have power in numbers, too. When we find out who got rid of Dash Bowman, the people of Venom will want to revolt."

Marcus remembered about Dash again. He knew immediately that Dash was silenced by the Republican Army. There was no doubt about that. He knew that whoever it was that killed Dash that day all those years ago, Marcus wanted to bring him to justice, if he was still alive today.

Those words still lingered with Marcus as Wolf left the room, bringing the money with him to the safe inside the ship.

Wolf still wasn't sure what to do with Marcus. He totaled a Wolfen on his first outing, but he feared that being too harsh on him would set him off on another suicidal rampage, and the last thing Wolf wanted now was another dead teammate. In any event, Wolf still had plans for Marcus. His time would come by eventually.

Wolf looked at the five stacks of money he had and noticed they were Cornerian Dollars. They were all in 100 dollar bills, with about 100 bills per stack. The five stacks meant that there was a total of 50,000 Cornerian dollars, more than enough to exchange into Republican credits and get a new ship ready in no time flat. Wolf shook his head in disbelief, stunned at how much money he had tucked away in the safe. But he had no time to celebrate, as he still had to worry about the Republican Army hunting him down, as cruisers were now completely patrolling every inch of Venom.

"Guess he's paying for the new ship," Wolf said to himself, referring to the stack of money. He would start to figure all that out tomorrow, though. Wolf was tired, and needed some shuteye to relax. It was nothing a shot of vodka couldn't solve, though.


	18. Chapter 18

"Can you believe what's going on in Venom right now?" Falco yelled in his communicator. "I can't believe someone would blow up a vault in Venom like that."

"I can't believe it myself," sighed Jenna, who was on the other end of the line. "Sounds like nothing's changed in Venom. I'm not honestly surprised by this, it's just that there were so many innocent people involved."

Falco growled as he finished his morning cup of coffee. "I know… Yet all the Army cares about is the destruction of the vault. Why would they leave volatile chemicals inside a valuable vault?"

"I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time," replied Jenna. "Anyway, if we're going to set up this team soon, we're going to have to move quickly. With the attack on Fichina, there's been a lot of trouble brewing in Lylat. You think they're related?"

"It appears that way," sighed Falco. "The tactics used were very similar to each other. I'm on my way there right now, just to see what's going on. Besides, I don't trust the news reports. They tend to mix fact and fiction."

"Did you meet up with Greg like I suggested?" asked Jenna.

Falco rubbed his eyes, still half asleep from the night before. "I did. He seemed enthusiastic about joining us. But he said he needed a few days to think it over. After I met him, the incident at Venom happened, and I got in touch with someone from the Army. Once they said that most of the planet was under lockdown, I felt it was safe to head my way over there. My security clearance is still valid."

"That's good to hear about Greg," exhaled Jenna in relief. "Jonathan also said he'd be willing to join up, but wanted to talk with you first. When were you going back to Fichina?"

"I'm not sure…" Falco scratched the back of his head. "We'll see what happens in Venom. I'll see you soon."

After they said goodbye, Falco sat on his bed for a minute, still dazed and half awake. He stood up from the bed and shut off the television, the computer, and everything that blasted the news all around him. "Can't stand the media," Falco grumbled.

Falco sat back down on the bed again inside his shuttle, and rubbed his face in agony. Thoughts of the destruction and chaos rushed into his mind, each victim adding to his pain. "A hundred or so families who have no father or mother… and all the Army cares about is some stupid vault."

As the autopilot alerted Falco from his daze, the Evergreen planet came into view, immediately giving Falco chills down his spine. "Haven't been there in years," said Falco. "I forgot how deceptively menacing this planet can be. Best to keep a low profile for as long as I can. Someone might remember me, even after all these years. There's a lot of war veterans from the Lylat Wars there."

Falco landed the shuttle in an airport not far from the blast, far away from the prying eyes of the public. Once he put on a sweater with a hood to cover his face, he stepped out of the shuttle into the pouring rain, immediately gathering flashbacks to the past.

He hadn't been there for a long time, but the place seemed very familiar to him, with the rows of the ghettos blanketing the landscape. The air felt humid and dry, and had the subtle but noticeable stench of toxic waste left over from the Lylat Wars, despite the Republic's best efforts (or otherwise) to correct this. The whole place felt depressing just to be in for a moment, never mind actually living there all day and night.

It had been raining off and on as Falco went through the streets of the capital city to get to the vault. As he approached the entrance gate of the vault, one of the officers pulled one of his shoulders to one side to get his attention.

Falco turned around, staring at the officer thinking that he would have to have more than a few words with him, before figuring out who it was that grabbed his attention.

"Sorry, Falco, didn't know it was you," Major Chen said embarrassingly. "What are you doing here on Venom?"

"Just thought I'd give a bit of a hand here given what's happened," Falco replied, taking down his hoodie, letting the rain soak his head. "Find anything meaningful so far?"

"Well," Major Chen explained, "whoever these bandits are, they didn't leave behind a lot of evidence. It looks like a small operation where only a couple of people go in and go out. Clearly they didn't take a whole lot of stuff out of there, because most of it was there when the vault exploded. They used some of the chemicals to catalyze the explosion, and it shook the entire place up. Sent flames everywhere."

"Who was the genius that thought to store chemicals in the vault, anyway?" Falco asked irritably.

"It was stuff that was left over from the Lylat Wars, when chemical warfare was pretty popular then. It was dangerous stuff to carry around in space, so the Republic just decided to leave it right on Venom and bury it as deep as they could. The bandits went pretty far down inside the vault, so they must have been looking for something. Either that, or they were looking for a way to blow up the whole damn place. Either way, the poison gas must have ignited the whole place up."

"Poison gas?" Falco's lungs convulsed at the mention of the substance. "I remember those goons sent that stuff out as Fox was battling you-know-who. Those guys were getting desperate. That stuff felt like someone was shoving sandpaper down my throat. Are you sure this place is good to be in?"

"It dissipated very quickly," explained Major Chen. "The only spot where it's any trouble is deep inside what's left of the vault. But the rest of it burned away with the explosion. The blast did spread through the entire building, though. It almost makes me believe they weren't trying to steal anything at all. I think they were simply trying to blow that place up, cause some terror along the way."

Falco shook his head in disgust. Wanting to see the damage for himself, Falco grabbed a set of binoculars from his pocket and zoomed it towards the vault, noticing a downed ship in the background. "Is that one of our ships crashed into the tower?"

Chen took the binoculars from Falco and looked over towards the downed ship. "Ah, that one. It's definitely not one of ours, but it's a strange one there. There's no security clearance or any kind of logos on it. We only have the name of the model of the ship."

"And what would that be?" Falco urged Chen.

Major Chen got out his communicator, not being able to remember the number from memory. "It said, 'FW-928."

"FW…" Falco thought to himself, trying to solve the riddle. "You're sure it doesn't show up under any search parameters?"

"No, which makes it all the more stranger. It doesn't search up under any of the known terrorist organizations that run in any planet. So either a new kind of group has popped up, or someone's been doing something funny with the security scanners."

"I doubt anyone can get inside the security scanners without setting some kind of alarm off. Unless, of course, nobody noticed it in the first place. But hey, what do I know? We're saying the exact same thing we said about the incident on Fichina. We can't seem to find out exactly who keeps getting away with these attacks. So we're right back to where we started."

"You got any other suggestions, then?" Major Chen said with a sense of irritability.

"I'll make a call to someone who might have a working database for a change," Falco scoffed. He then went off away from the investigators to do just that.

After punching in the number, Falco waited and waited and waited for the person on the other end of the line to pick up. It was a long distance call, so it didn't surprise Falco that he had to wait a bit, but he was now sitting on the line waiting for more than two minutes. He didn't really want to call this guy, anyways, but felt he had no choice but to at least try.

Four minutes had passed since Falco first placed in the call before someone finally picked up, but it wasn't the person Falco had been expecting.

"Do yourself a favour and call again some other time!" a deep voice raged, clearly unhappy at the communicator ringing for a long time.

Before Falco could reply, the man had hung up the call. Annoyed, Falco punched in the number again, if only to annoy the guy some more.

This time he only had to wait half a minute before someone picked up. "What do you want?" the same man answered.

"Just tell the big boss that it's one of his clients wanting to get more info on one of his ships, that's all!"

There wasn't any kind of noise at first from the man, then Falco could hear some commotion and arguing from the other end of the line. Eventually, he could hear the communicator being reluctantly passed over to the guy Falco wanted to talk to in the first place, and immediately he could tell that the guy had no interest to talking to Falco in the first place.

"Who is this?" Slippy groaned on the communicator.

"Slip, get me a check on a ship model I just found recently. The number is FW-928."

Immediately Slippy was irritated at the request. "What for? Even if I knew what the ship model was, why would I tell you?"

Falco's patience started to run out. "Listen, I don't know if you heard, but there's been a blast at one of the vaults over at Venom, and the only hints we have at the moment is a wrecked ship with a ship model left on it. Now if you're smart, help us out a little bit!"

"No way! Besides, I haven't received any of your payment for the ships yet! You said you'd have most of it ready last week."

"I'll get money, man, relax! Just see who the ship model belongs to and I'll get the money and leave you alone. It's FW-928."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. "Why do I have the feeling that you're going to try to beat up the owner of this ship? I know how the Republic works."

"I wouldn't be asking you about this if I didn't think they had some kind of involvement with whatever happened in Venom just now. Besides, I could just as simply tell the Republic all the thugs you deal with on a daily basis, and that'd be the end of that."

"Don't think for a second that the Republic is any better than these 'thugs' you're trying to hunt down," cursed Slippy. "They all act the same way, the only difference is that they think their 'rules' and 'regulations' give them justification for these war crimes."

"All right, all right then," Falco exasperated. "Enough of your views on ethics! Will you get me the ship identification or not?"

"Ok, fine, I'll check the ship number for you, if that's what you really want." Slippy replied. "If it's from one of my clients, don't expect me to be forthcoming."

"All right, I'll wait a bit, don't worry…" Falco wanted to say some more, but he could hear Slippy shuffle away from the communicator, and thought it was best to save his breath.

Major Chen walked near Falco, seeing his communicator near his ear. "Who's that you're calling?" he asked.

"Just a guy I know," Falco replied.

"With a ship database?"

"Don't ask how he got it…" Falco waited impatiently for Slippy to return back as he saw Major Chen go off. Then he heard the communicator shuffle around again.

"You're lucky," said Slippy reluctantly. "It's not anyone I would want to consider working with, even now. It's Star Wolf."

"Star Wolf?" Falco said startlingly, trying not to alarm anyone around him. "I thought they went away years ago."

"Apparently not," Slippy replied.

"It wouldn't be like them to simply go around getting ship identified under their own name. Why would they do that?" Falco asked curiously.

"Actually, they tried to get in touch with me a couple of years ago. They registered under a different name, 'Archangel,' so that I wouldn't recognize them, and even sent a young woman out to talk on their behalf. Once I got their bank statement, though, I noticed it was Star Wolf immediately. It's the only job I've turned down since I started this business."

"Glad to know you have  _some_  kind of morals left in ya," Falco smirked.

"Ha ha, very funny, Falco. You know better than me how many times we've nearly been shot down by those jerks."

"Do you know where exactly they're based?" Falco asked.

"How should I know? They didn't leave behind an address or nothing! Like I said, once I knew they were Star Wolf, I got out of the deal right away. Didn't want to have anything to do with them."

"Fair enough," Falco said disappointingly. "Anyway, thanks for the help, Slip, I'll get the money for you soon."

"You'd better," Slippy replied back, hanging up the phone without saying anything else.

"Jeez, when did Slippy become such a prick?" Falco said to himself.

Falco put away his communicator and went to find Major Chen again. He found him chatting to another person, and as soon as they finished up, Falco pulled Chen aside and talked with him.

"I found out the identification of the ship," Falco explained. "It's Star Wolf."

"You're serious?" Chen exclaimed. "Didn't you guys blow them up years ago?"

"That's what I thought at the time, but apparently, they've reformed. I don't know if it's the original gang or someone else entirely going under their name, but they're still going on, apparently."

"Who told you this?" Chen roared.

"Slippy Toad, one of my former teammates," explained Falco.

"Him? He's one of the biggest frauds in the galaxy," Chen mocked.

"He may be a lousy pilot, but he knows a thing or two about ships and how they work. He's got a good database of all the ships in the galaxy as well."

Major Chen looked very skeptical. "Are you sure he's got a reliable database?"

"Let's just say he knows  _more_  than a few people who buy ships off him on a regular basis," explained Falco.

"Hmm," Chen thought out loud, "we'll have to research some more to make sure it's them. We don't want to jump the gun on anything."

"I hardly think Star Wolf would be doing anything good at this point," Falco stated. "Even if they're not involved in this, don't you think it would be a good idea to hunt them down anyways? They can't be very far. Venom was their base planet during the Lylat Wars, and I doubt they'd want to set shop up anywhere else. And if they're involved in this, they can't be very far."

"Well, you know the drill, Falco," Major Chen disappointingly concluded. "Republic regulations."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get me started. I'll be off soon, keep me posted on whatever's going on around here, will ya?"

"Sure, Falco," Major Chen replied. "I'll try my best."

As Major Chen went away from earshot, Falco looked away and scratched his head. " _Sure_  he will," he said to himself. He walked away from the scene, looking down towards the ground, and headed back towards his ship.


	19. Chapter 19

Jenna had been restless for the last few days. She had taken to wandering aimlessly around the hospital room, left alone in her own thoughts, trying to wrap her mind around the boredom.

She had recovered reasonably well in the past few weeks; her shoulder had been properly mended, and her lungs had properly recovered and repaired surgically. Things had been progressing as planned so far for Jenna, but yet she hadn't been released from the hospital yet. She'd seen other pilots go into missions in worse shape than she was in. There was one pilot she knew from the Academy that had serious concussion issues, as well as a partially dislocated leg, but still managed to get his physical passed with no problems at all. Then again, Jenna never knew anybody who had a collapsed lung before, so she wasn't willing to let herself judge her physical abilities just yet.

She had heard about the blast in Venom that killed at least a hundred people. From what she heard from the two news channels that were available in the hospital room, there were varying opinions on what had happened and who the culprits were. One channel said that it was perpetrated by Corneria, since the Venomians were becoming more and more angry at their desolate situation compared to the life of luxury they were enjoying in Corneria, and that the Cornerians were trying to find a way to instill fear back into the Venomians. The other channel said it was done by a terrorist organization that was trying to take over Venom. Both channels, of course, had someone else who disagreed with what the channel was trying to say, and it usually ended in both panelists arguing with each other to no end. It made Jenna cringe and sickened inside, so she decided to switch the television off.

She wondered if she could have made a difference to stop whoever it was that was bombing the vault. Although she was stationed on Fichina, with the base now basically in ruins, she figures she would have been placed somewhere else while the base was being repaired if she was in decent physical condition. But she could do nothing but wait inside the hospital. She was starting to become restless.

Jenna started to receive some notifications on her communicator. It was from Jonathan.

"What does Jonathan need from me?" Jenna asked herself. She picked up the communicator. "Hey Jonny," she told him, "What's up?"

"Just the usual stuff," Jonathan replied. "Still reeling after the blast in Venom. The authorities don't really know what's going on around here. Everybody's blaming each other."

"That's what I've noticed so far," Jenna responded. "There's too much finger pointing everywhere, not enough people wanting to get things done. Has Falco gotten any hints around so far?"

"He thinks the successor to Star Wolf did it," Jonathan said regretfully. "It's hard to believe, because everybody thought they were disbanded years ago, but they seem to have somehow found a way to form back together. I don't quite understand it, either."

Jenna looked very concerned, and was shaking her head in confusion. "Do you think they'll strike again?"

"Falco seems to think so. He said it wouldn't be like them to strike and then hide for a long time. Falco thinks they will strike again very shortly." Jonathan paused before cautiously asking his next question. "Have the medics let you out yet?"

"No," Jenna replied sadly. "I don't know what the holdup is, but they believe my lungs aren't at their full capacity yet. I feel fine, though. I could probably get into that cockpit no problem. Remember when Ricky went into a mission one time with a broken leg or something?"

"Yeah," Jonathan reminded himself, "I remember that. I don't know how he got away with that stunt. There must be at least a dozen people watching you right now, especially after what happened in Fichina. You're lucky to be alive, though, especially after crashing on that planet. It gets nastily cold there."

"You're right," Jenna said to Jonathan. "I would understand better if the doctors would at least talk to me a minute. I know they're busy and all, but…"

"It's best to play it safe for now," Jonathan said, interrupting Jenna midsentence. "Best not to get caught empty handed for one reason or another. I'm sure you'll be back in action shortly. I got to go now – I hope the rest of the recovery goes well, Jenna."

"Thanks," Jenna replied, rolling her eyes at the thought of having to wait to recover more. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, now," said Jonathan, ending the conversation.

Soon Jenna was back all by herself, alone in her own thoughts, with nothing but the pitch-black landscape of space surrounding her. At least on Fichina there was a little bit of sunlight entering the base, which could at least give her a hint on whether or not it was day or night. Now back in space, her sleep cycle was all over the place. She kept waking up at odd hours in the morning, at least as far as the General Time Zone was concerned. In space, morning and evening were relative. It was based off the time zone the headquarters for the Department of Defense was located on Corneria.

Still, Jenna was tired, and desperately wanted to go off and sleep for a bit. The days were certainly much shorter in space than on any planet in the Lylat System. But the events of Venom were still on her mind. Stuck in the hospital, she couldn't do anything to at least try to save those people who were inside the vault.

_If only I didn't fly so recklessly in Fichina,_ Jenna kept thinking to herself while staring out into space.  _If only I listened to Falco and stayed back._ Deep inside, Jenna hoped this wasn't the incident that would keep her grounded permanently.

* * *

Back on Aquas, Jonathan sighed as he paced back and forth inside Slippy's office. "What more can we do? I can't get Jenna out of the hospital without having to breaking into it."

"There's something not quite right about this," groaned Falco. "The doctors aren't telling us anything on why she's being kept in there. Even if she was still not feeling 100%, the doctors normally want patients out of there as fast as possible."

"That's just great," grumbled Jonathan. "How else are we going to get a decent pilot? Greg still hasn't called back, right? And no offence to Clara, but she's nowhere near as good as a pilot as Jenna is."

Falco kept listening to Jonathan as he brought up some information on his communicator. "We'll figure something out. There's always another pilot around."

"Good pilots aren't exactly easy to find," replied Jonathan, shaking his head.

"I suppose," sighed Falco. "But we don't have much time left. If it's really a second coming of Star Wolf that's pulled off this attack on Venom, then we don't have much time to play with. Trouble is, I don't quite know if this is someone from the old Star Wolf team running this, or someone trying to revive the team for nostalgia's sake."

"Look who's talking," Slippy chipped as he heard from earshot walking into his office.

"What do you mean by that? I'm only trying to help out the Army a bit, give them some outside assistance," Falco said to Slippy. "Once this is over and done with, we'll probably do some security detail or something, give somebody some employment for once, and move on from there. I don't want to go into fighting missions on a daily basis – I just want to be my own boss for a change."

"What was your plan for these ships before Star Wolf suddenly popped up from nowhere?" Slippy asked Falco.

"Honestly?" said Falco. "I don't even know. I just wanted to get away from the Republican Army and everything." Falco sat on Slippy's desk to his annoyance, and Falco was looking downwards on the ground, noticing the papers and various mechanical parts strewn across the room. "Just wanted to get out of there, that's all."

Slippy couldn't care less. His communicator buzzed in his pocket, so he excused himself and took the call outside his office. Slippy left Falco sulking in his office, even though Falco was really wearing through his welcome just by showing up. Business had been slow recently.

Within a few minutes, Jonathan left the office and went over to Clara in the hangar, as she was looking at the ships together. Jonathan got up to one of the cockpits and ripped out the dashboard to see if they needed some tuning to make sure everything would run smoothly.

"These ships are a bit old," admitted Jonathan, "but they should get the job done. The speed of these things should be around where most ships are usually these days."

"Engines certainly look fine," Clara confirmed. "What do you think the first mission will be, Jonny?"

Jonathan scratched his head, trying to come up with a decent response. "I'm not sure, honestly, I don't even know if we'll even see Star Wolf our first time around. I think Falco's looking for a needle in a haystack searching for them here. They'd be stupid to try another stunt like they did on Venom."

"I'd hate to sound clichéd," suggested Clara, "but if they're really bad guys, they'll try to think of some way to let themselves be known again. If they can cause terror in one place, what's stopping them from doing it again?"

"There's a whole swath of people and troops around Venom right now, so I doubt they would want to attack that planet again. I honestly think they might have done this to distract the Republican Army a bit. There's been a lot of discontent there from the people of Venom that the Republic is biased towards Corneria, and I think they have a point towards that. So now with this terrorism going on in Venom, I think the Republic is sending troops there to try to appease the people in Venom."

"You think it will ease tensions there?" Clara asked with hesitation.

"It might, for a bit," admitted Jonathan. "But bandaids aren't enough to fix the issues going on there. They need full support there. They can't just leave once the terrorism stops. They need to fully integrate Venom into the Republic, and not just leave it as a spare wheel."

"That certainly makes sense…" Clara thought out loud.

"Although it's easier said than done," sighed Jonathan. "Venomians been pretty angry for years. I don't know if even a change of philosophy from the Republic can change things now. They seem to want to lead their own planet again. I just hope it can be resolved peacefully."

Jonathan and Clara were left to think to themselves, uncertain of the future in front of them. They were interrupted by Falco coming out of Slippy's office with a determined look on his face.

"The ships look good, Jonny?" Falco asked.

"So far," Jonathan replied, quietly smirking to himself now that even Falco was calling his name in short form.

"Sounds good, then," Falco continued. "The four ships are paid for and once we get the preliminary checks out of the way we'll be on our way back to Venom. Since Jenna's unavailable for the time being, you'll have to pilot one of the ships for now. If I don't hear back from Greg soon I'll have to find someone else to pilot the fourth ship, even temporarily. Let me give him a call first, though."

"Fair enough," said Jonathan, as he saw Falco go back inside the office with his communicator in his hand. He then turned to Clara, who looked slightly concerned, given that she was going to fly a ship for the first time since the incident on Fichina.

"Don't worry too much, Clara," Jonathan said to her. "Usually there isn't much going on in space. It's usually quite empty there, and it's so large the odds of someone like the guys who did the blast on Venom meeting us are very slim."

"I just keep hearing horror stories of people who are caught out by criminals out there," Clara admitted sadly.

"Don't be intimidated by those fools," Jonathan confided to Clara. "They're only trying to scare you. Besides, this is the only was you're going to grow as a pilot."

Meanwhile, back in the office, Falco got impatient and finally decided to call Greg up, wherever he was. He had waited for more than a week to get a response back from him.

Surprisingly, Greg picked up his communicator straight away, without even giving Falco a chance to collect his thoughts while the call rang in the background. Greg immediately picked up the call.

"Hey, Falco," Greg said on the communicator, "what's going on?"

"Been very busy at the moment, I guess," explained Falco nervously. "Listen, I haven't heard back from you recently, I just wanted to ask if you were still interested in flying for us in the future. We just got our ships ready to go, and we're almost ready to fly. Where are you right now?"

"Currently," answered Greg, "I'm flying in the middle of nowhere in Sector Y. Can't explain what I'm doing there, unfortunately. All confidential stuff. Why do you ask?"

Falco looked very glum, knowing that Greg must have taken another job since they last met. "Sounds like you're very busy then…"

"Hardly, actually," Greg responded. "We're doing absolutely nothing here. I'm supposed to guard some kind of cargo, but our contact hasn't arrived yet, and we're waiting here at the moment, not really doing anything…"

Falco's face turned from concern to complete panic, knowing of a similar story during his early days as a cargo pilot, before he had joined Star Fox. "You're led into a trap, Greg! Get out as fast as you can! Someone's going to sneak up on you while you're not looking and they're going to take advantage of you as much as they can!"

"What do you mean?" barked Greg. "Who do you think will attack us?"

"I don't know," Falco stumbled, trying not to sound paranoid. "I just remember something very similar to what you're in right now, that's all…"

Suddenly Falco could hear all kinds of loud ships and noises in the background on his communicator. Greg had suddenly found himself in tons of company.

"Greg? What's going on there?" he yelled to the communicator. "Where'd you go? Greg?"

There was no response. The call ended, and Falco was left alone back in the office completely unable to help out Greg, being that he was too far to even send out a couple of ships to him. Greg would have to find some way out of that jam, or else he'd have to find another pilot. Falco was completely beside himself, cursing himself for not calling Greg on the job sooner. He just didn't want to rush Greg into any kind of decision.

Clara had entered into the office, probably since Falco was yelling all across the room, and Slippy wasn't anywhere to be found. She was probably curious on what was going on in there.

"You doing ok in there?" Clara cautiously asked Falco.

"Umm… yeah," Falco responded, "I'm good." He was still shaking from the phone conversation. "Need something?"

"No, not yet," Clara told Falco nervously. "Just wanted to check on you, that's all." She tried to say something to Falco, but didn't quite know what words to use, and then eventually gave up.

Soon Falco's communicator rang again, and Falco was so startled nearly jumped right off the desk he was sitting on while trying to find the communicator he just had in his hands. Amidst the confusion, he hurriedly picked it up again without looking who was calling.

"Hello?" Falco nervously said to the communicator.

Clara was very confused, not knowing what had just happened in front of her in the past minute. Falco listened intensely into his communicator, and Clara was left wondering who was on the other end of the line, before Falco waved her away, as if he was trying to get some sort of privacy inside Slippy's office.

Once Clara was gone, Falco was back to his normal self, trying to recollect his thoughts again.

"How in the world did you get out of there, Greg?" Falco asked while talking to the communicator.

"The ships the company gave me were surprisingly quick," explained Greg. "I don't think I've ever taken a ship that fast before in my life, not even inside the simulator."

Falco couldn't help but chuckle when Greg mentioned the simulator. "Do you think you're being followed by any of the thugs?" Falco asked.

"Naw," confirmed Greg, "I think I got away before the thugs started advancing towards us. I barely had enough time to signal to everyone else in the fleet before I had to get away. Lucky to have you tell me of that tactics the thugs use just in time," Greg said nervously to Falco.

"It's one of the oldest tricks in the book," admitted Falco. "Comes with experience working with cargo companies."

"To be fair," added Greg, "I did have a bit of a bad feeling that the deal wasn't going to work out, because the contact was very insistent on getting to Sector Y at an exact time. I would have thought they would have held up their end of the bargain, but it didn't seem to work out. Maybe we should look if our contacts are doing the same thing, huh?"

"About that," Falco said nervously, "…my job offer isn't exactly what you'd consider a 'cargo' job."

"What do you mean?" asked Greg.

"I mean that there's really no transport of cargo or any other kinds of goods at all. In fact, I'd say that it's really a transport of 'information,' if you catch my drift. There's more active flying involved."

"Sounds fun," Greg joked to Falco. "Where are you right now?"

Falco was stunned. Greg was very naïve, and very forgiving for not being direct to him from the start. "I'm on Aquas right now with the ships, when can you get there?"

"At this speed," Greg checked, "I should be there within a couple of hours. You'd better have the ships ready, because I'm starting to run out of fuel. The company only gave enough for a round trip from Corneria to Sector Y and back."

"Don't worry about the fuel," Falco insisted, "just get to Aquas as soon as you can! I'll send the co-ordinates."

"Will do," confirmed Greg. "I'm on my way."

* * *

Greg had just arrived on Aquas, happy as a clam and bright and chipper for his new mission. He was thrilled that this wasn't an ordinary 'cargo' job but rather, an exciting new mission which involved much more than simply going from Point A to Point B. It could finally put his dogfighting techniques to good use. He'd be one of the few lucky people to graduate from the Academy with a half-decent job.

He soon met up with Jonathan and Clara, the other two members of the team. They were very surprised to find Greg so enthusiastic to enter the team.

"I like being positive and all that," Jonathan said to Greg, "but you do realize, we're potentially dealing against the Republican Army, right? Falco has reasons to believe they're not pulling their weight trying to find the culprits behind the blast that happened in Venom."

"I can handle them," Greg declared confidently. "Both the Army and these so-called thugs on Venom, anyways." Trying to get to know them better, Greg started asking personal questions about the team. "Say, Clara," he asked, "are you a pilot, or.."

"I wish," Clara shyly admitted, "but I'm not that great. There's another pilot we have, Jenna, who worked for the Republican Army. She's currently recovering in the hospital after…" she then tailed off, not knowing what to say.

"What, did she get seriously hurt?"

"Kind of," Clara said sadly. "She was at Fichina when the incident happened."

"I see…" Greg felt sorry for Clara bringing up the subject.

"She's doing better now, but she's stuck at the hospital. They don't think she's fully fit yet. I'm usually helping out with the mechanical side of things, but I was just helping out flying the fourth ship until Jenna recovers."

"Fair enough," said Greg.

Falco then entered the area, wanting to discuss the plan for the future. "Alright, the first thing we should do is to go to Venom, try to get into the blast area of the vault and see if there are any more clues we can pick up. If we don't get anything new, we'll try to co-operate with the Republican Army as much as we can, but if they don't want our help, we'll have to find something, anything we can to see where Star Wolf is."

"Star Wolf?" asked Greg. "I heard rumours that they were making some kind of comeback. But I didn't know they were involved in that blast at Venom!"

"We found one of their ships in the blast area," explained Falco. "But the Republican Army doesn't seem to believe us at the moment. That's why we need to do more research of our own."

"To Venom, then," Greg confirmed to himself. Once everything had been figured out, Greg sat back down as he looked more reflective of himself.

Clara noticed Greg and wondered what his concern was. "Everything ok?" she asked Greg.

"Oh, yes," Greg answered back to Clara. "I was just thinking of someone who had a boring cargo job back in Venom. I wonder if he knows of anything that happened during the blast on Venom. Out of curiosity, how long was your friend supposed to be in the hospital for?"

"I don't know," Clara responded sternly to Greg.

"Hmm. Well, it's worth a try, I guess. If I found out where my friend was, I could have convinced him to join the team, even for a bit. I'm sure it would be more interesting than shipping goods back and forth for a living. He's twice the pilot I am, anyways."

"So he went into the Academy with you?" Clara asked.

"Yeah, he was supposed to graduate with me in the same class," explained Greg. "Dropped out after some skirmish with a homeless guy. But his piloting skills are very good. Shame, really, Marcus was a good guy until he disappeared."

" _Marcus_?" Clara thought to herself.  _"Wasn't Marcus at the Academy as well? If that's who I think it is…"_

Greg noticed that Clara was lost in thought, judging by the blank look on her face. "Something the matter, Clara? You look confused."

"No, nothing," jumped Clara, snapping out of her own thoughts. "I was just thinking about who you were talking about. Maybe you should ask Falco about it."

"Good idea," said Greg, nodding his head. "Where did he go? I saw him walk into the office but I have no clue if he's still there."

Greg walked towards the office as Falco stormed outside, yelling and cursing to the worker inside. "Don't expect me to be back here again, you hear?" Falco barked, before awkwardly seeing Greg in front of him. "What do you want?" Falco growled.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt," Greg sheepishly replied to Falco. Falco didn't look too interested in continuing the conversation anymore, so he started to walk in the other direction, before Greg found the courage to talk to Falco again. "Look, I heard about your pilot that was injured in Fichina…"

"What about her?" asked Falco.

"Were you going without her for a while? Or do you still need a fourth pilot?"

"Why, do you know anyone in particular?" asked Falco.

"There was just someone I knew from the Academy that was a good pilot. He was in the same class that I was in. Didn't graduate for some reason, I'm not sure why. His name's Marcus."

"Marcus?" Falco questioned. "You said he went to the Academy?"

"Yup," confirmed Greg.

"Do you know where he is?" Falco insisted to Greg.

"Last time I heard from him," said Greg, "he was doing a cargo job in Venom. He was boasting that he took in 10,000 dollars from his last job!"

"10,000 dollars!" Falco said in a stunned fashion. "Nobody makes that much money fresh from the Academy. Even I didn't make that kind of money at his age. Something's going on here."

"Well, he didn't exactly say what he was doing, and he got really defensive when I tried to ask for more information," added Greg. "Because, you know, I kinda wanted to join in with him, too."

"I have this gut feeling that whatever he's doing is most likely illegal," described Falco.

"That gut feeling worked out before," chuckled Greg, thinking of his close shave in Sector Y.

"You're sure it was Marcus?" asked Falco.

"Marcus McCloud," confirmed Greg.

"Hmm, I don't know," Falco sighed. "As soon as Jenna gets back we'll have a full squad again. I don't know if putting him and Clara together would be a good idea."

"Why is that?" Greg questioned.

"Didn't she tell you?" Falco replied. "They're twins."

Greg laughed. "Twins, huh? Never would have guessed. That's just too funny, man. She didn't seem interested in talking about him, though. I wonder why."

Falco looked away from Greg, having a troubled look on his face. "From what I heard, the two never got along. Besides, I don't know if he'd be a good fit working near the Republican Army, especially after not finishing the Academy. Then again,  _his_  father never did the same, either."


	20. Chapter 20

"So," asked Duncan, basking in the moonlight of Zoness. "You ready to experience your first real nightclub?"

"Of course," chuckled Marcus nervously. "I've always wanted to go since you gave it a glowing endorsement."

Duncan pointed towards the brightly lit club overlooking the wide oceans of Zoness, still sparkling green despite the lack of sunlight. "This'll make the Academy seem like preschool. They have just about everything there, Marcus, and it's not too ghetto or posh. There's enough booze and hookers there to last a lifetime. Just don't spend all the money you got recently in one shot."

Marcus knew that he had earned a lot of money over the past few days, even though the rest of the team got more of the share because Marcus had to pay some of that money off for another Wolfen, but it felt like a lot of money to him. "I'll try not to spend it too quickly," Marcus chuckled.

As the two walked up to the nightclub, the two could hear the music thumping through the walls of the place, nearly shaking the ground around them. Duncan entered first in front of Marcus, giving a quick nod to the bouncer at the front door, knowing each other from before. Marcus followed quickly behind, as the two were quickly surrounded by what seemed like thousands of people inside, drinking and partying like no tomorrow. A rush of adrenaline flowed into Marcus' mind as he waded through the thick crowd inside.

"I told you this was the best club in the universe," boasted Duncan, yelling over the thundering music in the background. Duncan spoke with a sense of arrogance only seen inside the cockpit of a Wolfen, so Marcus knew deep down he had little reason to doubt him.

"Just tell me where to go and everything, ok?" Marcus yelled, occasionally rubbing shoulders with the odd patron or two.

"As long as you're still stable enough to walk on your own," Duncan joked. "I know you're a bit of a rookie still, but they'll love you there. You're the easiest to please. You'll drink just about anything they serve up."

The two continued onward, and it was a scene straight out of a movie. There was a huge room with people filling all the tables and chairs everywhere, and a balcony right above everyone sitting there that was full as well. The room was very bright, almost to the point where it was blinding everyone. All the people looked about the same age range as Duncan and Marcus, coming in from a long day's travels to grab a drink and party for the night.

Duncan and Marcus managed to find a spot inside the crowded bar at the front of the room and squeezed themselves inside. Barely able to hear themselves, Duncan waved his hand and got the bartenders' attention, and a few others recognized Duncan, knowing him from beforehand. Duncan gave a fist bump to one of the attendees nearby, walking right past Marcus while trying to get to Duncan.

The bartender brought his ear closer to Duncan, listening to his every word. "What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

"I don't know quite yet," replied Duncan, looking at a wide-eyed woman, gazing in astonishment. "You know what you want?" he asked, turning to Marcus.

"Got any Venomian bourbon?" Marcus suggested.

"Of course," the bartender answered, reaching under the table.

Duncan raised his eyebrow in curiosity. "Kinda fancy, don't you think?" he joked.

"Wolf got me into it," admitted Marcus. "It's pretty strong stuff."

Duncan thought to himself for a few seconds, then turned back to the bartender. "I'll have the same thing he's having," Duncan ordered, nodding over to Marcus.

The bartender brought over two glasses with some ice inside, and quickly poured the bourbon inside the glasses. The two then grabbed their glasses and looked towards each other.

"Cheers," Marcus stated, pointing his glass towards Duncan.

"Same," Duncan replied.

As the two started drinking, a red cat came over behind Duncan, wrapping his hand around Duncan's shoulder. "So, Duncan, you find a new partner or what?"

Marcus kept drinking, enjoying every last drop in his glass, but Duncan nearly spit his drink out in laughter. "Adrian, you piece of shit, what brings you here? Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know," Adrian cautiously said, scratching his head. "Doing the usual stuff... is this guy here cool?" he asked, pointing at Marcus.

"Yeah," Duncan replied softly. "He's working for us."

"Who's this?" Marcus asked to Duncan.

"A buddy of mine from when I used to go on looting runs a few years back," Duncan explained. "That was before I joined Star Wolf. Anyway, Adrian was talking to me earlier about joining us for the next mission."

"Really?" Marcus said with surprise, raising his eyebrows. "What are you planning?"

"We're recruiting more and more people by the day," Adrian explained. "We've got a thousand people onboard the new plan already, and we'll easily have double that number by the end of the month. As long as we can convince the Venomian masses to join us, we'll be unstoppable."

Marcus couldn't help but give a big smirk. "Sounds like you're building up a big army. But what did you mean by the new plan?"

Adrian scratched his head, not trying to sound secretive. "As much as I'd like to explain, I don't want to discuss this in the open, where anyone can hear me... especially with the music blaring around."

"It's all top secret stuff," Duncan interrupted. "I'll tell him about it, Adrian. I'll see you around."

"Thanks, Duncan," sighed Adrian in relief. "We'll definitely meet again in the future. Now, if you'll excuse me, I just want to get plastered for the night..."

"I was thinking of the same thing," Marcus chuckled, as Adrian went off in the opposite direction.

As Adrian went off to join the rest of his group, laughing and joking away, Duncan leaned over to Marcus' ear, where he was able to talk quietly to him. "Adrian's leading the Lylat Resistance Movement right now, Marcus. They were the guys that led the attack on Fichina.

"No way," Marcus said in astonishment, trying not to raise his voice. "So if he was the one who attacked Fichina, that means..."

"That means he's on our side," finished Duncan, taking another sip of his bourbon. "I don't know how they did it, quite frankly. He doesn't tell me everything sometimes. But from what I heard, all the lookouts on Fichina were understaffed, and when the first of the LRM forces came in, there weren't enough people to alert the Army. Also, I don't think the Army took the LRM seriously enough. They don't know Adrian, obviously. He can't pilot a ship as well as I can, but he can command a fleet like a champ."

"Jeez," Marcus said to himself in disbelief. He was starting to get properly intoxicated already, given that he hadn't had a proper drink in a couple of weeks. He was craving for more, but Marcus felt a buzzing inside his pocket, calling him on his communicator.

"Shit, I thought I turned off that thing," Marcus growled to himself.

"Hey," Duncan smiled, chuckling quietly. "Turning into a potty mouth, are ya?"

"Shut up," Marcus barked back. "Not like you're any better. Save my spot, will ya? Somebody's trying to call me."

"Sure," Duncan responded. "Don't take too long, though. People don't like it around here when you're saving a spot for someone."

Marcus ignored Duncan as he got the communicator out of his pocket, picking up the call without reading exactly who was trying to call him.

"Hello?" Marcus naively said to the communicator.

"Marcus?" Krystal asked back. "What's going on back there? I can't hear a thing!"

It then dawned on Marcus that the enormous crowd was generating tons of noise in the background, making a conversation with his mother impossible. Marcus started to make his way towards the washroom, wading through the crowd as fast as he could. "I'll call you back in a minute," he told Krystal.

After what seemed like an agonizing couple of minutes, Marcus found the men's washroom, insulted from the noise and fracas in the club. Even though it smelled of mould inside, Marcus was able to concentrate at his own thoughts again, as his ears buzzed from the inside out.

Marcus dialed the number that called him and got in contact with his mother again. "Sorry about that," Marcus said, trying his best not to sound embarrassed. "I was just over somewhere, and I needed to get somewhere where I could hear you."

"That's ok," Krystal replied innocently. "But where are you right now?"

Marcus paused for a brief moment, not wanting to disclose his drinking habit. "I'm at Zoness... with a friend of mine. Why do you ask?"

"Zoness?" Krystal's surprise rang through the communicator. "That's interesting that you found your way there. I haven't heard from you in two weeks, and I wondered where you've gone. Last time I heard from you, you were working at a cargo job on Venom!"

"I was," said Marcus. "But I decided to pick up a shift in Zoness, since I wanted to get out of the drama going on in Venom after the blast, too."

"Fair enough," sighed Krystal. "I'm just being a mother, that's all. Guess work's been good?"

"So far," Marcus replied, scratching the back of his head. "Work's been real busy. My boss is fine, just very demanding." Marcus took pauses in between his sentences, having a hard time thinking of something to say. His head started to spin as it usually did after a glass of bourbon, but it couldn't have come at a worse time for Marcus.

"You feel ok?" Krystal worryingly asked to Marcus.

"Yeah..." Marcus said slowly. "Just been going through long days lately, that's all. Haven't had much sleep."

"You certainly sound like you've been short on sleep," Krystal replied back, as Marcus sat down on one of the toilets with the seat down. "I know this sounds like I'm nagging you, but try not to stay out too late tonight. It sounded like you're with quite a lot of people in there, wherever you are."

Marcus started to relax as he let the stillness take over the washroom. "It sounds like it, but honestly, I don't know most of these people..." As Marcus started to think of something else to say, a patron in the other washroom stall started hacking away, gagging over the deafening silence in the washroom. Marcus turned in vain to see where the hacking was coming from.

"Is something the matter over there?" Krystal asked alarmingly.

Marcus tried to look under the stall as much as he could without being seen by the other patron, as he kept coughing away. "I don't know what's going on over there," he admitted.

Krystal wasn't convinced, becoming more and more ominous by the second. "What's going on over there?" she barked.

"Nothing," Marcus quickly answered, as he started to sweat and tremble. "Guess I passed by someone with a bad cough, I guess."

There was a delay in her next response, and Marcus gulped, knowing that she was getting angry and frustrated.

"I know that 'cough' from anywhere, Marcus, and that guy sounds like he's on drugs. I don't want you going to places with tons of drugs going around. Or any kind of drugs, for that matter. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"There aren't any illegal drugs around here that I know of," Marcus yelled back, growing more defensive. "Besides, it's my first time here, I don't know what goes on here on a daily basis!"

Krystal saw right through the excuse, even while talking through the communicator. "You know that's not being completely honest and you know it. There are tons of people out there that get involved with this kind of crap that end up getting you killed, or worse. I'm only telling you this for your own good. Now get out of this company, whatever it is, and work somewhere else. I don't want you working or dealing with drug lords."

Marcus was speechless. He didn't know what to say back, if anything, to her.

"Understand?" Krystal growled.

"...yes," Marcus quietly answered back without saying anything else in reply.

Krystal's voice started to calm down. "Ok, then. Now, try to keep in touch more often, you got me worried for a minute. And do take care of yourself. Life's more important than money or anything else in the universe."

"Yes, Mom," Marcus whispered back to the communicator, before slowly hanging up the call. Marcus then heard the guy hacking away again in the washroom stall, and Marcus got out of his own stall and went to the other stall, noticing the door had been opened partially. He found the man leaning onto the toilet, with his face turning pale as he started to shiver and convulse.

"That wasn't mould that I smelt when I came in," Marcus thought out loud to himself. He was able to smell the drugs off the man's body as the guy fell over and collapsed on the toilet. Marcus could tell that the man was still breathing, but clearly exhausted by the drugs he had taken. "I'd better not get involved in this, or else I'll get blamed for doing something I didn't do again."

Marcus got out of the washroom and went back to the bar, sitting beside Duncan, but Marcus stared into thin air, shaken by the phone call.

"You doing ok?" Duncan asked Marcus. "You don't look good at all."

Marcus felt that his face was pale, and he could still feel the sweat coming off his face. "I've got a splitting headache… and my stomach hurts…" he grimaced.

"Already?" Duncan smirked. "You've only had one drink so far!"

"I don't know, man…" Marcus stuttered, before bending under the table and hurling beneath it. Marcus could tell that some people nearby his table turned their heads to see what the noise was all about, but the rest of the room was too loud for the general public to take notice, thankfully.

Adrian came up behind Marcus and noticed him hunched over, his head nearly under the table. "You feeling good, buddy?" he said, trying to see his eyes.

"Fuck off," Marcus barked back without moving his head.

Duncan got up from his chair and waved Adrian aside. "Must have been something in the bourbon, I guess." He then turned to Marcus, still with his face down. "Come on, I'll settle the bills for ya."

Marcus slowly got up from his chair and borrowed Duncan's shoulder for support. Duncan handed some money to the surprised waiter. "Sorry bro," Duncan said to the waiter. "Keep the change for the cleanup over there."

Once the two got out, Marcus found enough energy to speak to Duncan again, with his throat filled with gunk and crap inside.

"I don't know what happened in there, it felt like the whole room felt warm and then I didn't feel right…"

"Save your breath for later," Duncan growled to Marcus, as he took a whiff at Marcus unintentionally. "What the hell were you doing just a few minutes ago? You smell like you were bathing in paint thinner!"

"How should I know?" Marcus snapped, as he tried to break free from Duncan's arms. "Does it look like I know what happened back there?"

Duncan didn't say another word as the two stumbled their way back to their shuttle, but Duncan was highly disturbed with what had happened to Marcus, repeating his thoughts inside his head. " _How Marcus got in contact with hard drugs this quickly, I'll never know…"_

* * *

Marcus could drink all the coffee he wanted to early in the morning, but it couldn't do anything to get rid of his splitting headache. He wasn't sure exactly where his illness came from the previous night on Zoness that made him vomit all over the floor of the place, but Marcus didn't want to touch Venomian bourbon for a while. He wasn't certain if it was the bourbon, the anxiety of his mother finding out that his "cargo" jobs weren't the most ethical, or a combination of the two. Either way, this didn't sit right for Marcus.

"Happens to the best of us," Duncan said encouragingly, trying to cheer Marcus up.

"I only had just the one glass, though," growled Marcus, lying down on the couch. "If I had twelve glasses or something, I might be able to understand better, but I had more of that stuff the first time I had it. It doesn't make much sense."

"Maybe somebody poisoned the stuff you drank," Michelle suggested, listening to the conversation by eavesdropping.

"Nah," dismissed Duncan, "I drank the same stuff he did. I wasn't affected by it at all. And I didn't see anybody slip anything in his glass, either, since he downed it as soon as he got it. He then left to take a phone call a few minutes later, and came back feeling sick. You never did tell me what that phone call was about, Marcus…"

"I don't remember," groaned Marcus, rubbing his head with his hands. "As a matter of fact, I don't remember very much from last night."

Duncan shook his head. "You smelled like you were taking hard drugs in the washroom. Either that, or someone spilled some on you. You're lucky to not be any worse, Marcus. I've smelt that stuff before. That shit will bring you down quicker than you realize."

"What was it, exactly?" asked Marcus, raising an eyebrow.

Duncan got up slowly from where he was sitting, giving an unusually serious look on his face. "I'm pretty confident you got in contact with meth, Marcus – whether or not you simply got close to it or actually consumed it is another matter, but there was no mistaking the smell of paint thinner on you last night."

Marcus looked around the area in disbelief, unable to draw up the memories of the night before. "You really think it was meth? Jeez, I had no idea…"

"Now you know what exactly it is if you smell of paint thinner again," said Duncan. "Take care not to get into that shit again, ok? I don't want Wolf's star recruit to end up dead. Get some coffee, bud – I have to go to help fix up the Wolfens with Michelle. I'll see you around."

Duncan was just about to head off to the hangar, but Marcus quickly turned around and nearly grabbed Duncan by the shoulder in an effort to stop him.

"Wait a sec – " Marcus said, as Duncan turned to see Marcus eye to eye, losing Marcus' thoughts. Marcus didn't know what to say to Duncan, so he simply nodded in thanks, and Duncan gave a quick smile back, before heading back towards the hangar.

Marcus left himself to ponder his circumstances, but shortly afterwards, Robert entered through the same door Duncan came from, heading towards the coffee machine. Marcus grabbed the coffee pot nearby him as Robert waited patiently nearby, while Marcus hazily looked up to Robert.

"How do you take your coffee?" Marcus asked Robert.

"I don't," he answered. "I'm only grabbing a cup for my dad. Besides, I've got better things to do than to get involved with getting addicted to a substance."

Marcus just chuckled.

"It's true," Robert insisted. "Caffeine is a drug, just like alcohol and cigarettes. You get a drug, you get addicted to it. Simple as that."

"Thanks for the enlightenment," replied Marcus, not really interested in carrying the conversation further.

"Heard about your little incident yesterday," Robert said to Marcus.

"I'm not surprised," replied Marcus, sipping some more coffee.

"Pretty funny, actually. I remember the first time I had some alcohol; I was six years old, and my dad must have left a bottle or something around the table, and I managed to think it was juice and guzzled the other half of it down. I don't remember the rest, but apparently I had my stomach pumped and everything."

"Jeez," Marcus said, trying not to chuckle. "So you're not a drinker, too?"

"Yeah," Robert replied. "It's ironic, because Dad made most of his money after all the wars had ended owning a brewing company, making beer and other types of alcohol."

"You'd think he'd left that beer out intentionally," joked Marcus.

"Hardly," replied Robert. "That stuff tasted like cat piss."

" _I wonder why_ …" Marcus thought to himself. He then got up out of the chair and started to move around just to keep active. "So what's our next move, then?"

"Duncan mentioned to me about wanting to meet up with the LRM, or whatever it's called, and joining forces with them somehow," explained Robert. "If we manage to do that, then we'll go over to Titania and see if we can break into the information centre there."

"You're not entirely convinced about this, are you?" Marcus asked.

Robert looked a little surprised at the comment, but quickly shrugged it off. "I mean, joining forces with a terrorist organization to stop terrorism? Sounds silly if you ask me."

"It's not terrorism if you're ultimately getting rid of the evil going on in the universe. Didn't your Dad tell you all this?" Marcus smirked.

"Well, yes," Robert replied, thinking of an explanation. "I just think there's more to this than we know right now. But what do I know? I'm sure Wolf can figure out how to resolve this without forcing a raging war."

"Just as long as we can find the killer of Dash Bowman, we'll get our revenge. If the people of Venom want war with Corneria, it'll be because of their own actions, not because of what we do. It wouldn't surprise me, in a way, given how poorly they've been treated all these years."

"You're right about that," Robert conceded. "Still, we should go to Katina, we don't have much time to waste."

"I'll let you do your thing," Marcus said, seeing Robert off. He wondered if Robert knew about his mind-reading powers when he mentioned that he wasn't entirely convinced meeting with the LRM would be a good idea, but Robert didn't seem too miffed about it.

"Perhaps he'll be more understanding after all," Marcus said to himself as he finished off the last drop of his coffee, before making his way to the bridge. There, Wolf had already assembled himself there, almost meditating as he was sitting in the command chair. Marcus arrived there and didn't want to disturb Wolf and his thinking, so Marcus simply found one of the consoles and took a seat nearby there, staring at it contently and admiring the lights and colours of the console. However, Wolf noticed Marcus walking in, and spun the command chair around to see him.

"You good, Wolf?" Marcus instinctively asked Wolf.

"Of course," replied Wolf. "Just been doing some thinking." He got up from the command chair and walked behind it, putting a hand on it. "You know how many people go around chasing after titles and privileges? I certainly wasn't. I was like you once, I simply wanted to make a difference in the galaxy. But everyone else around me just wanted to get a damn pension, something to prop them up for the rest of their lives."

"Sounds familiar," Marcus replied, referring to the Republican Army.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You know, you're different – there's maybe two other people that I know of that actually wanted to make a difference in the galaxy."

"What, Duncan and Michelle?" asked Marcus.

"No, not even them – they're too self-interested to realize what kind of power they have. But you don't go chasing around money and riches just like most people. Sure, you get enough to make a living, and you have your own vices – we all do, really – but something struck me when you didn't really fuss over how much money you wanted from the stash you got from the vault down in Venom. Any other person with that kind of money would have stashed it for themselves and not told anybody about it. But that showed me you were willing to help fight for the cause; the rebirth of Venom itself."

Marcus understood then that he had a bigger mission than simply fighting for his own freedom.

"You know what separates you from the rest?" Wolf asked rhetorically. "The best people don't fight for chairs. They fight for freedom."

Wolf was interrupted by a buzzer indicating that Robert, upstairs in the radar room, had noticed a signal from far away. Wolf picked up the intercom and radioed back to Robert.

"What's the matter?" Wolf said to Robert.

"I see four heat signatures, alongside an automated mother ship, approaching straight in our direction."

"Do they look dangerous?" Wolf asked.

"I can't tell from here. I don't want to get too close to the formation, but that's just it – they're in a tactical formation of some sort, like they're guarding something. You think they're holding something onboard that mother ship?"

"Can you get a read on the thermal scanners?" Wolf inquired from Robert. "Maybe we can see what's in the mother ship a lot better."

While Wolf waited for a response, he took the periscope from above the command chair and brought it down so that he could see personally what exactly the formation looked like. He was able to get a quick look at it, but was too far away to get any kind of detail on the ships, even at the maximum zoom range.

"From what I can tell, it's your average, run of the mill passenger ship," Robert confirmed on the intercom.

"Certainly can't be Republican, then," Marcus inquired. "They wouldn't be that stupid to run something of value with so little protection. Doubt it's a personal escort, either."

"They must have noticed us by now," Wolf added. "If they wanted to ambush us by now, they would have already." Wolf sat back down on the command chair, thinking of what action to take next against the formation heading directly towards them. "Change course slightly, Robert, see if they respond in any way."

Marcus could feel the ship move around slightly, before heading in the same momentum it was before. It was subtle, yet very noticeable blip in the ship's movements.

"I've got the headings set so that they won't directly hit us," confirmed Robert. "I'm waiting for their response." Marcus and Wolf sat in the bridge, waiting for the formation to react, if at all.

Suddenly, one of the ships in the formation broke off from the group and flew directly at the main ship of Star Wolf, but it did not appear that the ship was ready to fire. Still, Robert alertly got the sluggish weapons system of the main ship online, just in case it was needed at all. But as soon as the ship came by around, it flew right past them and then returned back to the formation just as soon as it came by. Then, the computer systems started glitching up, as if it was being tampered with. Robert went over to the mainframe computer and traced the sudden attack on the computer systems, finding the source and disabling it.

"What was that?" barked Wolf.

"I'm not sure, but the systems were somehow bugged. They must have put a wiretap somewhere on the ship that was able to access the systems. It didn't get very far, though," explained Robert.

"How much info do you think they got?" demanded Wolf.

"Probably enough to figure out who we are," gulped Robert.

Before Marcus could voice his concern to Wolf, Wolf put his hand up to stop Marcus at his tracks, and put forward an explanation. "Like I said, if they have a reason to attack, they'll do it. But hardly anybody knows we're still in business." At that point, both Wolf and Marcus could feel some shots being fired at the main ship, sending them slightly forward from where they were standing.

"They're charging shots at us," Robert grumbled. "I thought you said they weren't Republican…"

"I don't care what they are," stated Wolf, "they mean business." Wolf took his intercom and changed the settings so that he could be heard all over the ship. "Battle stations, everyone!" he ordered. Soon Wolf and Marcus ran over to the hangar where they boarded on their Wolfens. Wolf and Marcus were the first to get out, and Duncan and Michelle soon followed behind them.

Within a couple of minutes the whole team was out in space, with only the other group of ships in the area. There wasn't any patrol ships or anyone else to witness the battle.

"Marcus," Wolf explained, "you should have a bug ready to go on your ship. When you get close to their mother ship, plant it on them when I tell you. Fight fire with fire, I always say."

"Sounds like a plan," confirmed Marcus.

Wolf then changed his intercom settings within the team so that he and only he could be heard to the general public. He hoped it would be within range of the formation so that they could hear them. They were still some distance away.

"I don't know who exactly you guys are," barked Wolf to the formation, "but I don't want to be disturbed like that again. If you don't want to be taken down, I suggest turning around and staying far away from us. You don't want to be messed around with at all."

There was a brief silence across the intercom as Wolf waited for anyone from the formation to reply back. What he got eventually in return was a voice that Wolf swore he'd never hear from again in the past 20 years.

"What kind of wise guy is this, anyway?" barked Falco. "We know who you are, especially after you left behind a  _huge_  piece of evidence back on Venom!"

"Dammit," Marcus quietly cursed to himself as he heard the public transmission on the intercom.

"I'll tell you one thing," Falco insisted, " _we're_  the ones you don't want to mess around with!"

"If that's the way you want to play…" Wolf threatened to the formation. He switched his intercom back so that he could only communicate with the Star Wolf team. "Marcus, go now!" he ordered. "Everyone else, full scale attack!"

Marcus zoomed off ahead of the rest of the team, and sent shots towards the formation to protect himself but mainly focused on trying to get to the mother ship to plant the bug. One of the ships inside the formation caught Marcus zooming towards the mother ship and chased after him.

"I'll have to chase this guy away from me," Marcus discussed to himself, "or I'll be a sitting duck planting that bug!" He chased the assailant off behind him, but was caught inside a dogfight he had no interest in battling in. Still, he had to fend the ship off somehow.

As the rest of the two teams battled each other in a chaotic mess, Marcus and the assailant dodged each other endlessly, with each shot missing each other by mere inches. Marcus maneuvered his way up and around the enemy ship, trying to come up with a delicate trick to escape from the dogfight, but the enemy ship kept balancing and reacting with every move he had. It's as if he knew him from before, but it didn't make much sense.

Still, he pressed on, never relenting to the mysterious group that decided to attack on Star Wolf. The rest of the team managed to find their own sparring partner to battle with. From the sounds of things on the intercom, Wolf had naturally picked on Falco and was having a battle of his own with him. Michelle had gotten a pro pilot from the Republican Army, and was in a big battle of her own. But Duncan had the easiest matchup of all, as he was literally flying circles around his opponent.

"I'm too good for this wannabe pilot!" Duncan mocked his opponent on the public intercom.

Marcus had no time to watch everyone battle their way forward, however, as he was still occupied with trying to get a clear pathway to the mother ship. "Duncan, if you're so confident you're going to win against your opponent," suggested Marcus, "then why don't you give my guy a distraction so I can plant the bug on the mother ship?"

"Sounds like a plan, boss," Duncan jokingly replied, as he sent a charge shot right at the enemy ship behind Marcus. The shot sent the ship briefly off-course, giving Marcus the opportunity to speed away from the enemy and go directly towards the mother ship.

"Awesome job, Duncan!" exclaimed Marcus.

"Too easy," laughed Duncan.

But there was little time for celebration. Marcus went directly for the mother ship, and expected to chase it down as he got closer. But the closer he got, the thermal imaging noticed that there wasn't a single soul inside there, unlike the setup Star Wolf had with Robert inside their main ship. The enemy's mother ship had to be set on autopilot, because it was still going in the same direction as the battle raged on.

"Looks like I'll be able to get the bug planted with no trouble at all," Marcus declared on the Star Wolf intercom.

"Don't get too confident just yet," interrupted Michelle. "You're sure there isn't anyone in there?"

"Thermal imaging is negative, Michelle," explained Marcus. "Plus, there isn't anyone around me. Duncan just chased someone off."

Suddenly one of the enemy ships radioed in on the public intercom, blissfully unaware of the conversation going on with Star Wolf. "Don't think for a minute you can chase me away forever!" Greg shouted.

Marcus turned around to see nobody behind him but the enemy ship Duncan had just chased away, as it was closing in on Marcus and the mother ship. " _This can't be true_ ," Marcus thought to himself.

Marcus quickly planted the bug on the mother ship and quickly sped off. "Bug should be good to go, Robert," Marcus confirmed.

"I'll get straight to work, then," said Robert. "I'll see what we can get from their ship."

Within a minute, the enemy mother ship had crawled down to a halt, as the autopilot was shut down and rendered useless. Some alarms had rang out on the mother ship as a result.

"Shoot," Robert barked out on the intercom. "They won't be going anywhere any time soon, but the anti-theft alarm system just broke out, sending out SOS signals all around us. If any patrol ships come around, or anyone else for that matter, they'll probably send in the authorities."

"We'll have to do what we can until a patrol ship shows up, then." Wolf concluded. "Alright, everyone, show them all you got!"

Wolf then zoned in on Falco, and the two circled around each other and shot at each other endlessly, with 20 years of hate and anger built up between them being released all at once. Falco was not sparing any expense himself, but found himself outclassed by the much more experienced Wolf. Falco hadn't been in a full dogfight in years, and his rustiness was starting to show.

Wolf managed to get close behind Falco's ship and fired directly at him, before Falco was able to barrel roll his way through the flurry of shots, and was able to deflect them away from sight. Even with the G-diffuser working, though, it was still making Falco quite dizzy deflecting all those shots, especially with Wolf increasing the frequency of them, so Falco had to get out of his barrel roll sequence and simply dart his way over Wolf to try to escape. Wolf, however, noticed this quickly, and was able to follow suit behind Falco to chase him down.

"Man, these enemy ships are fast!" Falco shouted to himself.

Falco could see one of his ships being pounded with shot after shot by one of Star Wolf's teammates, and the damage on the Interceptor they were flying in was quickly starting to show. Falco knew then that the unexpected battle was wearing down on the pilot, as the pilot hadn't radioed in to the team in a while, and was hurriedly trying to weave their way around the shots in vain.

Falco then zoomed in on the battle and fired at the Wolfen that was shooting straight at the pilot. He sent down a charge shot that was perfectly accurate, hitting straight at the Wolfen's wing, disabling his lasers and seriously affecting its agility.

"Fuck," Duncan shouted on the Star Wolf intercom. "Who the hell was that?"

"Never mind that," Wolf barked to Duncan, "just get back to the base as quickly as possible. I'll take care of him."

Wolf then charged right behind Falco and fired directly at the engine of his ship. The lasers hit directly at them, sending alarms off inside Falco's cockpit.

"These things don't take a lot of abuse!" Falco cried out.

Marcus, meanwhile, made his way back to the main battle area, with the bug already in place on the mother ship. With Duncan out of the picture, he was left to chase down the pilot that Duncan was battling with before Falco shot him down.

"There's some behind you!" Falco shouted to the pilot. "Do a loop if you can!"

The pilot looped around Marcus immediately like clockwork, almost as if they knew what to do beforehand. Marcus then swung his Wolfen around to dodge the pilot's manoeuvre, but as he swung around, he could look into the wide-glassed cockpit of the enemy ship, and couldn't help but notice that the pilot also looked very familiar to him.

"First Greg, now her?" Marcus said to himself in shock. "Something's going on here…" Marcus then remembered his conversation with his mom yesterday night. Marcus knew that if Clara had somehow gotten word that he was involved with Star Wolf, Marcus wouldn't know what to do with himself. Marcus then found it best to leave Clara alone for the time being.

Clara noticed the Wolfen fly past her as it swung around her, and was worried that the ship would shoot right at her. Her ship's energy levels were starting to get dangerously low, and any more serious hits on the ship would mean disaster for her. But when the Wolfen decided not to shoot at her, like all the other Wolfens shot at her before, Clara got slightly confused of this, and then realized this was her chance to return back to the mother ship and find a way to disable the bug that had been placed on there.

"Looks like the other ship is too damaged to go on," Marcus concluded to Star Wolf as he saw Clara return to the mother ship. Is everyone else ok?

"Yeah, I'm fine," Duncan groaned. He had already returned safely back to Star Wolf's main ship. "Not too happy at myself, though."

"I could use a little help here," Michelle ordered, as she was fighting her way with her matchup. Both Michelle's Wolfen and the enemy ship had taken a similar amount of damage, with no advantage either way towards each other.

"I'm on my way," Marcus confirmed to Michelle. As he zoomed his way towards Michelle's Wolfen, he noticed that another enemy ship had followed straight behind him. Given Falco was battling with Wolf, and Michelle's enemy ship had been with each other since the start of the fight, this meant that it could only be Greg behind him. Marcus hoped that his friendship with Greg wouldn't have to end like this, but he seemed to have no choice. He blasted his way off to Michelle and the other enemy fighter, hoping to cause a distraction.

"Take care of the guy behind me," Marcus offered, "I'll try to fight against your guy for a bit!"

There wasn't any response, though, as Michelle was still rolling and dodging her way out of the firing path of her enemy ship, too busy to even listen to the intercom.

"Never mind, I guess," shrugged Marcus, as he simply went towards the enemy ship and fired right at it. But Greg was still behind him and fired lasers of his own at Marcus, damaging his Wolfen.

"Ooh, that's it, then," Marcus growled, as he let Michelle fight the enemy ship herself and flipped his Wolfen around to face Greg directly, sending some charge shots in the process. But Greg was smart enough to fire right back underneath Marcus' Wolfen, getting more damage as a result.

"Dammit," Marcus groaned. He was unable to gain any advantage over Greg in the battle, and had by now thrown technique out the window, just to get some shots at Greg's ship. By now, Marcus was firing furiously at Greg, giving everything he had.

Greg decided to go upwards above Marcus, and Marcus went right after him, not even thinking about where he was going exactly in the process. He fired lasers out continuously, and some of the shots escaped Greg and went towards Star Wolf's main ship, accidentally hitting it and causing some minor damage.

"Watch it, ya fool!" Duncan growled out on the intercom.

"Why don't you go out there and help me out, then?" Marcus snapped back in return.

Duncan was now with Robert on the bridge, helping him out with radar and communications. "What'd I do?" Duncan asked Robert.

Robert just rolled his eyes and returned back to what he was doing beforehand.

Meanwhile, Michelle was exhausted from battling with her matchup. To try to end the battle as quickly as possible, she sent out a smart bomb over to the mother ship in the hopes that damaging it would somehow cause the enemy ships to stop battling each other. Michelle could hear some voices on the public intercom try to convince anyone to stop the bomb's path, but it was no use. The bomb hit directly at the mother ship, causing a big dent on it.

The pilot Michelle was fighting with hung around for a minute, before tailing off and returning to the mother ship.

"Looks like the team's retreating," stated Wolf on the Star Wolf intercom. Michelle could see Wolf's matchup go back towards the mother ship as well, albeit slower than her matchup was going at. "It's not worth damaging their ship any further at this point," explained Wolf. "It's better if we get what we can from their mother ship and make our way out quickly."

Michelle obliged and made her way back to Star Wolf's main ship. But Marcus was still battling with Greg, intensely firing away to no end.

Inside his cockpit, Marcus was yelling and cursing away at Greg, as he recklessly fired at the enemy ship. Greg, at this point, wasn't even thinking about returning fire – he was just concerned about going back to his mother ship safely, but he didn't want the enemy to go back with him. So the two fought on endlessly, at least until Marcus noticed his fuel levels were running low. The notification on his dashboard rang out to mock Marcus, and Marcus thumped the dashboard in anger, frustrated that he couldn't finish off Greg in time.

"Dammit," he growled, "I've got to defeat Greg, somehow!"

"Marcus!" Robert yelled on the intercom. "Your fuel is low. Get back to the base as soon as possible!"

"Dammit, man," Marcus barked back, "I'm close to getting him! Just give me some more time!"

"Can't," replied Robert, "unless you can find a way to refuel mid-fight! Besides, Wolf wants us to return back."

"Fuck's sake," Marcus gnarled. With his teeth seething in rage, Marcus reluctantly let Greg go off back to his mother ship, keeping an evil eye on him in disgust as Marcus went the opposite direction.

Soon Marcus and the whole team were back in the hangar of the main ship, and Marcus thumped the dashboard again in frustration, not happy at his own performance.

Duncan was just outside the entrance to the hangar, and noticed Marcus coming out of the hangar. "You did better than I did, kid," he said in a rare moment of humility. "You managed to hang in there for quite a while there!"

"Not that it matters," grumbled Marcus.

"Why not?" asked Duncan.

"Because I didn't kill him," said Marcus with a death glare.

Duncan looked confused, not sure what to say in reply. "Should that matter? All I care about is that their ship is damaged, not that I kill the guy or not!"

"Never mind," dismissed Marcus, as he walked past him and onto the bridge. Marcus looked determined to state his case to Wolf, bitter about his close victory.

Marcus entered the bridge looking very dejected, and obviously had a chip on his shoulder and more than a few words to say. "About the fight out there, pulling us out like that –"

Before Marcus could rant, Wolf interrupted him. "I've got no time to talk about this, Marcus; I'm just concerned about that ship over there. Robert, do you know if the smart bomb did anything to it?"

"It did some damage on there for sure, but they're not disabled. They could certainly be on their way soon if they wanted to."

"It looks likely," Wolf replied. "I don't want them going off to the Republic to rat us out, so I'll need a couple of people to go in there and disable their systems. For good."

"I'm on it," Marcus immediately responded in confidence.

"I'll be there, too," Robert offered.

"You can do field missions?" Marcus asked Robert with suspicion.

"Maybe not combat missions," replied Robert, "but I can at least find out where their fuel system is and mess it up, just so that they can't go anywhere quickly."

"Hmm," Wolf thought to himself. "That sounds like a good and simple plan. Ok, we have two spacesuits ready for use so that Marcus and Robert can go and enter their mother ship from the outside. Then they can go inside and fiddle with the fuel system or something like that. Now, we'll need someone to bring them there and back, and to keep lookout in case the authorities show up with that alarm going off.

"I could do that," Michelle offered. "Out of all the ships we have, mine is the least damaged."

"Sounds good," said Wolf. "We also have modifiers for the Wolfen so that two people can sit as passengers on the top. That way we won't have to cram everyone in the same cockpit. Once everything is ready, you'll all go there at once. We haven't any time to waste."


	21. Chapter 21

The new team had barely just gotten back to their ship, battered and bruised all over. The attack from Star Wolf was not entirely unexpected; as Falco had told all the other members of the team that there were likely to be many space pirates desperate for anything they could get their hands on.

For Greg, though, it was different. His former classmate and, for a while, a friend, had joined the "bad guys" and teamed up with Star Wolf to try and take down the Republican Army. It was a betrayal that he couldn't completely comprehend in his mind, but somehow Greg knew that there were many unspeakable horrors Marcus could have done since he last saw him back at the Academy in Corneria.

Greg wasn't sure how to best bring it up. Clara, as Greg recently found out, wouldn't probably take it very well, being that Marcus was her twin brother and everything. Falco, having been told to try to get Marcus on the team, would probably flip at the news, and then would try to hunt him down, not to recruit him, but to either kill him or turn him other to the authorities. But something had to happen to Marcus, one way or another. Things couldn't continue on the way they were at this point.

The rest of the team were exhausted from the fight with Star Wolf. Jonathan said that his matchup was the toughest opponent he'd ever faced, even after working with the Republican Army. Falco said Wolf was just as tough as he was many years ago. Clara suffered the worst of all; having no combat experience, she was overwhelmed by the pilot she was faced with before Falco went in and helped her out. Her ship was damaged pretty badly in the fight.

Greg could see Clara and Jonathan talking to one another, trying to make sense of what happened during the fight. He decided it was best to leave the two alone for the time being, and break the news about Marcus a bit later when things weren't so traumatic.

Inside the room, Clara was in shock, not just from the fight, but also from the near-death experience she had outside. She thought endlessly on the fact that any exposure to her cockpit would let in the emptiness of space into the ship, taking away her oxygen and killing her in an instant. She saw documentaries on the effects of being exposed in space enough times that it stayed permanently inside her mind, which affected her during the battle enough that she blanked out and didn't know what to do. She sat in there, cuddled up with Jonathan, not really saying anything at all, but simply staring into the walls, stunned and scarred by the events. Jonathan could do nothing but remain by her side, never quite feeling the need to let her go.

In his mind, Jonathan felt he had the urge to say something along the likes of "everything will be all right" or "things will eventually get better," but somehow he felt saying that to Clara would be lying. Every time he was told that by anyone, no matter how much they loved him, they usually meant to say the exact opposite. If they told anyone things would be alright, it usually meant "things are going to get worse" or "something very terrible is going to happen soon." There weren't any exceptions.

_"What can I say to her?"_ thought Jonathan, tormented by his own questions.  _"I can't tell her the truth, that Star Wolf is on their way to take over the Lylat System again. But I can't give her empty words of comfort, either…"_

So Jonathan was left staring at the same wall Clara was, not knowing what to do or say, and not wanting to tempt fate, one way or another.

A small tear came dribbling down from Clara's eye. Jonathan noticed this and looked down in shame, when he also noticed Clara was shivering in fear, shaking and quivering from her bones. Jonathan leaned over to Clara's ear and shushed her to try to get her nerves down, and to try to stop her from crying any further.

As much as Jonathan wanted to think that the world would simply resolve itself from this phase and return back to normal, deep down inside Jonathan knew that things wouldn't ever be the same again. Soon enough, he too started to have tears coming down from his eyes as well.

He figured the best thing to do was to rest his eyes for even a few minutes, take his mind of the impending doom of the Lylat System, and worry about fixing up the ships tomorrow. Tomorrow would be another day, after all.

Jonathan then felt the mother ship they were on shake around a bit, almost as if it was being caught and towed by another ship. Jonathan looked around, even though the room they were in was windowless and couldn't look outside, but found no immediate cause for alarm. "Probably the autopilot correcting itself," dismissed Jonathan.

Jonathan's mind started to drift again, going further and further into sleep, where his troubles would be away from him for a moment. Then he heard the noises again, only this time the ship shook around more violently, as if now the ship was being wrestled down to the ground. A warning message blurted across the ship, saying, "INTRUDER ALERT, INTRUDER ALERT."

"What's going on?" cried Clara is disbelief.

"I don't know!" yelled Jonathan, searching his pockets. "Where's my blaster?"

Without saying a word, Clara went over to the dresser in the room to go get it, and in her panic, stumbled over the ground as she hurriedly went over. Jonathan then went over to Clara and Clara carefully handed over the blaster over to Jonathan.

"Come with me and back me up," Jonathan said to Clara.

Jonathan went over to the door, and typed in some settings near the side of the entrance so that he was able to open the door partially, so that he could look outside without exposing the whole room. Jonathan couldn't see anything on either side of the hallway, however.

"Let me see what's going on over on the bridge first," Jonathan said to Clara.

Greg wasn't very far from where the mother ship was being blasted in. He immediately went over to the door and went into the hallway, where he was able to access the security protocols. He noticed that the intruders were entering near the back of the ship, around the storage compartment. The intruders were able to bypass the sealant that kept the door from being opened in case of a drop in atmospheric pressure, and were able to make their way inside.

Greg went over to the entrance of the storage compartment, with his blaster in his hand. When he got to the entrance, he couldn't see anyone within sight. Then one of the intruders came down from the ceiling and wrestled with Greg, sending him flying into the walls and punching him until he went down into the ground.

Greg was barely able to get himself back on his knees when the intruder put a blaster in front of his face, and Greg realized that he didn't know where his own blaster was. It probably got lost during the skirmish.

Greg, wanting a simple explanation, said, "what are you doing –"

"Shut up," said the intruder with the blaster, with his voice clearly distorted under his spacesuit. "Get me to the fuel room."

Greg didn't respond, not wanting to trust the mysterious intruder.

"Now," the intruder insisted.

Greg was about to walk back and lead the intruder to the fuel room, but was stopped by another man in a spacesuit, one much like the first one. They looked about the same, except the first one had red stripes on his helmet and the second had yellow stripes on him. Not that it mattered much, but the red striped intruder was much more aggressive than the yellow striped intruder, as the red striped intruder shoved his blaster down his spine as Greg led them to the fuel room.

Once they were there, the yellow striped intruder got into the computer mainframe and bugged the security systems so that the fuel room door would open up. The red striped intruder then turned Greg around so that they saw each other face to face, and the intruder help up his blaster to his face again.

"Tell me where the bridge is," demanded the red striped intruder.

"Just down the hallway to the right," answered Greg. "Now, what are you –"

Before Greg could finish his question, the red striped intruder took the end of the blaster and whipped it right at Greg's forehead, knocking him unconscious and sending him down to the ground. The yellow striped intruder looked at the other, stunned and not knowing what to say.

"What are you waiting for?" the red striped intruder demanded. "Get rid of the fuel system!"

The yellow striped intruder then went back inside the fuel room, taking a look at the number of computers and sensors inside that made the ship move.

"You got your own blaster?" the red striped intruder asked.

"Yeah, I can take care of myself if I need to," the yellow striped intruder replied. "I'll need a few minutes, but I can disable the fuel system no problem."

"Doubt there's going to be a lot of people who will try to be smart," suggested the red striped intruder. "Meet me on the bridge when you're done, it doesn't appear to be very far from here."

With that, the intruder left the fuel room and immediately made his way onto the bridge, setting a short-distance mine on the door leading up to it. Afterwards, he ran back a few feet before letting it explode, using just enough power to send the door flying off its hinges and allowing an entrance to open. The intruder went inside and found Falco staring right at the front of the bridge controls, looking out into the vastness of space.

"Arms up, show your hands where I can see them," the red striped intruder said under his distorted voice.

Falco duly put up his hands and waited for further instructions, looking as if he had gone through something like this before. "All right, wise guy," he mocked, "what do you want?"

The intruder turned Falco around where he could see him, and pointed the blaster directly at him. "Give us full security clearance and step away from the console. Don't make me do something you'll end up regretting."

Falco stepped away from the controls very carefully so that he could hit one of the alarms located near his feet to alert anyone inside the ship, letting anyone with access know where the intruders were located. He walked away from the console without saying another word.

The intruder walked to the front of the console as Falco looked at him, not certain what to make of him. The intruder looked at the controls briefly before looking straight back at Falco. "Do you want to say anything?" the intruder threatened.

"No," replied Falco.

"Good," said the intruder, as he whipped his blaster around his face, sending him flying over the platform they were on and sending him crashing down into the lower level, where Falco was left grimacing in pain.

The intruder returned to the console, typing away to access the nearest patrol cruiser and sending out the co-ordinates for where the mother ship was located.

_"I'll get the evidence planted shortly,"_ said the intruder quietly, reiterating the plan to himself.  _"The authorities should take around than 20 minutes to arrive, which should give us plenty of time to get out of here."_

Jonathan, meanwhile, was already on his way over with Clara to the bridge when he heard the buzzer coming from his communicator from Falco. "The internal alarm's activated on the bridge," said Jonathan, looking at his communicator. "Falco must have been disarmed by the intruders."

Jonathan got to the bridge in the lower levels, noticing Falco lying down and bleeding from his face, but he didn't have time to take care of anyone. He found the intruder typing away on the console above him, but couldn't get a clear shot, especially from an awkward angle. He carefully made his way up, being especially sure of not making any noise at all up the stairs leading up to the upper level.

Clara stayed back on the lower level, noticing Falco as Jonathan crept up the stairs, but before she could go to see Falco, Falco waved Clara back, not wanting to speak or say anything to her and distract the intruder. Clara complied and stood back, going up the side entrance to try to sneak up on the intruder.

As Jonathan got to the top of the stairs, he slowed down considerably and readied his blaster, going through the steps of taking aim and making a shot. He was certain the intruder didn't notice him at all as he was making his way up, so all that he needed to do was to get out and make the shot. The blaster was set so that the person would be stunned significantly so that it wouldn't immediately kill them, leaving them alive enough to be turned over to the authorities.

Jonathan gripped the blaster right before he got to the top steps. The stairs were aligned so that anyone going up would come out of the sides, and the only way to get a clear view of anyone in front was to go into the middle of the path. But Jonathan felt he didn't need very long. All he needed to do was to go out quietly, take aim at the intruder and hit him anywhere – it didn't matter where – and the immediate threat would be over. Jonathan crept out, crouched down and being very still. Just about ready to fire, Jonathan took one more quiet step in the middle of the path, but the intruder turned around and shot right at Jonathan's shoulder, sending him lying on his back on the ground in pain, and his blaster out of his hands.

The intruder hurriedly went towards Jonathan, holding his own blaster in his hand. Even though Jonathan's shoulder was in tremendous amount of pain, Jonathan went to reach for his blaster, which was lying in front of him, but the intruder was able to kick it out of the way and have it thunk down into the lower level below. Jonathan, now running out of options, started crawling backwards staring point-blank right at the intruder's blaster, but the intruder took three direct shots right at him, one at his forehead and the other two into his chest. Blood spattered right across the pathway where Jonathan lied. He was dead.

Clara knew immediately what had happened. There was so much blood it dripped right down the stairs and even leaked through the platform and down the lower level. As the intruder walked his way back to the console, Clara was leaning on her knees and sobbing profusely, muffling her cries on her knees.

Soon the intruder had returned to the console, and begun typing away at it again. Clara, in her rage and anger, found a way to quietly climb up to the upper level by going on top of some boxes laying around in the area and grabbing onto the edge, all doing so against Falco's wishes. She slowly got herself up in such a way that she was able to sneak up on the intruder. The intruder noticed Clara straight away, but also noticed that she didn't have her blaster, and was just one keystroke away from sending all the information necessary to pin the whole operation all on Falco's team. Once he was finished, the intruder turned around and Clara attacked him, as the intruder wrestled and punched her, sending her backwards and on the floor, giving the intruder enough time to grab out his blaster and point it towards Clara.

"Put your hands up," said the red intruder, "if you want to live."

Clara didn't immediately respond, instead she simply stared right at the red intruder, trying to glare through his mask and his shadowed voice, as the yellow striped intruder came out from the entrance.

"Fuel system is out! These guys won't be going anywhere any time soon," the yellow striped intruder declared. "Got the communications going?"

"Yes. Just had to deal with a couple of wise guys," the red intruder sneered, pointing his head at Jonathan lying motionless on the pathway.

The yellow striped intruder took a quick look at Jonathan, and even through his mask, everyone could see his disgust at the sight. "Christ, Marcus, was that really necessary?"

Clara took immediate notice of this, and slowly got back up from the floor, with her fist squeezed tight in fury. Her face started to compress more and more as her blood boiled to a crisp. Amidst all the rage, the only words she could muster out to the red striped intruder was "…you  _monster_."

"Don't make me shoot you," the red striped intruder threatened. "You're worth more alive than dead."

"And why is that?" Clara snarled.

"Because you're going to have to be the one who will explain to the authorities why Falco betrayed the Republican Army," answered the intruder. "Now put your hands up where I can see them."

Clara reluctantly put her hands up as requested, but was still seething in anger. The two weren't very far apart, and as the red striped intruder stepped closer to disarm Clara of anything inside her pockets, Clara whacked the blaster out of the intruder's hand and punched him right in the face. The yellow striped intruder ran after the two as Clara took out her knife in her pocket, but the yellow striped intruder was able to push Clara back in time. Clara still struggled with the yellow striped intruder, stabbing her knife into his arm, causing him to cry out in horror as he stumbled into the ground. But the red striped intruder returned and grabbed Clara's hand that held the knife, then swung his other hand down on Clara's arm with enough force to fracture it, making her drop her knife in the process. The red striped intruder then punched Clara not far below where her eye was on the left side of her face, dropping her to the floor and causing a good amount of blood to come out of her face. This time, Clara was struggling to find her feet, writhing in pain and breathing very heavily.

"We got to go," the red striped intruder said to the other intruder. "Come on, get up!" The yellow striped intruder was able to get himself up on his own power, but had to be dragged across to the front of the bridge to help him go faster. Once they were out, they both ran towards where they came from in the storage compartment.

"You think you can make it with that tear in the spacesuit?" the red striped intruder asked to the other.

"My head will be fine, not sure about the other parts, though!" the yellow striped intruder explained. "It may be left exposed in space."

The red intruder took one of the fire hoses nearby and tore out enough of the hose so that he could wrap it around the yellow intruder's arm tightly, covering the wound and the opening in the spacesuit in the process. "It'll do for a few seconds," the red intruder conceded. He then radioed for the recovery vehicle, and Michelle was able to zoom by within seconds, and the two intruders were able to quickly jump in and seal themselves inside the additional seating at the back of the Wolfen, and they were able to blast off back to the main ship.

Once the yellow intruder ensured that the cockpit was all sealed up, he took off the hose on his arm and got some bandage from the first aid kit located inside the ship, and wrapped the bandage around the arm. Once the wound was resealed properly, he tore off his helmet and sat back on his seat, exhausted from the operation. He looked over to Marcus, who still hadn't taken off his red helmet, and thought about the person who attacked back at him. Robert wondered why she attacked so viciously at him, and wondered why Marcus didn't simply shoot her, like he did with the other guy he found lying dead on the pathway. It didn't make much sense to Robert, but he didn't want to get into any more arguments with Marcus now. He felt it was best to leave him alone for the time being.

"Are the authorities on their way soon?" Marcus asked Michelle.

"I saw some guys on radar just as you guys were exiting the mother ship," explained Michelle. "I'm not sure if they're from the Republic or not, but we'd better hurry and get out of here before we find out."

"Dad," Robert said on the intercom, "get out of the area in hyperdrive, we'll meet you guys at the nearest outpost."

The coordinates of the outpost lit up on Michelle's dashboard. "It's not far from here on hyperdrive. We'll be there when you are," Wolf said, as the main ship blasted off into the distance, while Michelle's Wolfen followed.

Back at the mother ship of Falco's team, at the lower level of the bridge, Falco figured that the intruders had finally made their way out and taken what they needed. It was made clear to him that Star Wolf had thought up of more things to terrorize people with than in years past. Falco struggled to get up from the floor as his back ached and twinged all around him, throbbing in agony. He noticed Jonathan lying up on the pathway, still motionless and still bleeding, with the blood making a noticeable puddle on the floor below the pathway. He looked to where the console was and saw Clara, turned away from Jonathan and leaning on the console itself, sitting still and had a blank look in her eye.

Falco had mustered enough strength to get up to the upper level of the bridge and limped towards Clara and the console. He looked at Clara, and she didn't take any notice of him walking towards her.

"Clara," Falco began to speak. Clara didn't move or reply, still staring blankly in the distance.

"Clara," Falco said, sitting down near her. "Whatever happens, -"

"It's him," Clara scowled.

"Who?" Falco asked.

"Marcus," Clara sulked. "It was him all along."

Before they could discuss this, the entrance to the bridge was broken into and a bunch of troops came in, searching around the place with rifles and full body armour. Out of the swarm of soldiers came Captain Meyer, who noticed Falco and Clara near the console and gave an evil smirk.

"Captain?" Falco said in shock. "What is this?"

"Doing what I should have done the first time I met you," Captain Meyer explained. "Bringing you to justice."


	22. Chapter 22

She couldn't believe the news on the television screen, and everything she did to try to hide herself from that pain didn't work. Jenna tried covering her head with her pillow, tried distracting herself with magazines and crosswords and anything she could get her hands on, but it was no use. Falco was still arrested, alongside the rest of the team.

It didn't make much sense either, because Jenna knew Falco wasn't guilty of any of the crimes he had been accused of. He couldn't have been responsible for the attack on Fichina, because he was inside the base during the battle there. He couldn't have been responsible for the attack on Venom, because she remembers him going to Corneria that day. Deep down, Jenna was seething inside, bitter at the Republican Army for what they were doing to Falco.

Jenna was now thinking of the reasons why she was kept at the hospital all this time. The doctors hadn't said very much too her at all about her condition or how she's been improving in the last few days. Nobody else around her is saying anything about when she'll be released. People were giving her very suspicious looks, and Jenna was confused and saddened by the way she was being treated at the hospital. Other people who were in worse shape had come and gone since the time she arrived at the hospital, and Jenna was driven just about crazy being stuck in the hospital.

She was just about to cry herself in shame before she heard a threatening knock on the door. Jenna slowly got up and opened up the door to find an officer from the Republican Army, impatiently waiting to come in.

"Who are you?" Jenna asked the officer.

"I'm Major Chen," he replied. "I'm here to ask questions to you about the recent developments. No doubt you've heard the news that Falco Lombardi's been arrested recently…"

"Yes, I have," replied Jenna. "It's a real shame."

"For sure," responded Major Chen, still maintaining his serious tone. "I knew him for a number of years, and to have this come out to the public is devastating."

"Is there any evidence against him?" asked Jenna skeptically. "I mean, real, factual evidence?"

"Oh, yes," Chen answered, not giving Jenna enough time to finish asking her question. "There's plenty of evidence against him. But that's not what I'm here about. I'm only interested in what went on between yourself and Falco."

"What do you mean?" questioned Jenna.

"I mean those conversations you had with Falco," explained Chen. "Within the past few weeks since you landed in the hospital we've noticed that you've been communicating with him frequently. Phone calls, text messages, even the occasional video conversations. We've got records everything you did with Falco." Chen took out his communicator and started glaring directly at Jenna, intently listening to each of her words. "What exactly did you discuss with Falco?" he asked.

"What gives you the right to get access to all the calls I've made?" asked Jenna furiously.

"We do this for every subject of the Republican Army," snickered Chen. "You, of all people, should know this. We can keep track of who talks to whom in the entire Lylat System."

She hated that term,  _subject_. It made people so inhuman, like they were pawns on the political chessboard, as if they were easily expendable and uncared for. And the way Major Chen simply dismissed his admission to the Army incessantly spying on people – even if they couldn't hear  _exactly_  what they were saying – brought Jenna's blood to a boil.

"Listen," she scowled at Major Chen, "I don't know what you plan to do with Falco. But I can tell you that he's innocent of all the crimes you guys claim he did. He was with the Army on Fichina, and helped defend the base. He was on Corneria the last time I heard from him before the blast on Venom. He was getting a new teammate for his new group."

"Greg Morgan?" asked Major Chen.

"I believe so," said Jenna.

"What was the team's name, out of curiosity?" Chen insisted.

Jenna scratched her chin and thought about that question for a second. "We never really settled on a name, we had other plans for the team that had to be taken care of first, such as my recovery, the investigation on Venom, tracking down Star Wolf…" Jenna chuckled briefly, even with the tense conversation. "I guess 'Star Falco?' Seems appropriate enough."

Major Chen didn't appreciate Jenna's sense of humour, though, as he shook his head and brought up some information on his communicator. "From what I can tell so far, Falco and two of his 'teammates' were found not far from Zoness with the ship under the registration of 'Archangel.' Falco told me that Archangel was the code name that Star Wolf used for their ships when they blasted down Venom, and that name checks out. So when we found Falco on that ship, we were quite surprised, to say the least."

"Falco wouldn't be that stupid to have that name appear on his own ship," growled Jenna. "All I know is that Falco was going back to Venom to hunt down Star Wolf, and that's it. They didn't say much to me, because I was still stuck here in this hospital."

Major Chen put away his communicator inside his pocket and sat down on one of the chairs inside the room, showing a very grim face. "Let's look at it this way," he explained. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Now, the easy way is simply telling me everything you know about what you and Falco were planning to do with this group of yours. I'll even give you clemency over anything you've done if you cooperate enough. But if you choose the hard way," he said, grimacing. "…well, let's just say the detectives down over on Corneria won't be as nice as I am to you."

Jenna glared Major Chen straight in the eyes, and growled, "If you think you'll get me to put Falco in jail for something he didn't do, then you're horribly mistaken."

There was silence. Major Chen didn't expect that answer from Jenna.

"Remember, Jenna, you could end up in jail, too, just like Falco," Chen told her.

"I don't care," replied Jenna. "I'm not going to play any of your games."

Major Chen gave a puzzled look back to Jenna. "This isn't like you, Jenna. From what I'm hearing in your reports, you've always been a loyal and committed officer with the Republican Army!"

"Not anymore," insisted Jenna.

Major Chen felt no need to talk to Jenna anymore, and glared right back at her for a minute, intensely letting her words simmer inside his body, before hastily getting up from the chair and walked towards the door.

"Your decision, then," sighed Chen. "Don't try anything stupid, because you're being watched right now. I'll be back."

When Major Chen left the room, Jenna went towards the only window in her hospital room and saw a couple of Republican cruisers hanging just outside the hospital ship, ready to close in. She grabbed her communicator, put her street clothes on, and went to the door, listening to see if there was anyone nearby in the area. She slowly crept open the door and found nobody in the hallway.

Jenna brought out her communicator and tried to map out the hospital ship, trying to figure out where the hangar was that would have a ship she could 'borrow' just to get out of the area. However, the signal to access the Republican database was out of order, likely jammed by the cruisers waiting outside so that she couldn't access them. Making a quick call to someone for help wasn't possible due to the signal jamming, either. Jenna found herself completely alone.

"Might as well give it a shot," Jenna sighed to herself, as she went outside the door and stepped out in the hallway. She tried to remain as calm and as nondescript as possible, so that she wouldn't attract any attention to the number of doctors and nurses walking around. Jenna recognized a couple of the doctors, and tried not to make eye contact with them as she passed by them. Nobody raised a fuss over her appearance, so things were going well in her escape.

Jenna passed right by the emergency room entrance, where a couple of paramedics came running through with some patients who were involved in an accident of some kind. As the group whizzed right by her, she noticed the emergency ship that they came out of, as well as a couple of other ships waiting for their passengers. As Jenna made her way towards these ships, one of the medics noticed her walking around.

"Excuse me," the medic said to Jenna. "What are you doing here?"

It then occurred to Jenna that her street clothes made her look like a security worker, or even an undercover agent of some sort. She certainly had the Republican Army look to her.

"I'm with security, what do you need?" asked Jenna.

"Ah, sorry about that," said the medic. "I was just wondering if you could help me out, actually. One of the patients I'm with has some kind of psychiatric condition, and we'll need a full team to make sure he doesn't break out and escape. Could you get the team down here?"

Jenna looked around the hangar, trying to act like she belonged to the hospital. "Let me see what I can do," replied Jenna.

"Thanks," said the medic, as she returned back to the entrance, but didn't quite leave, bringing out her communicator and waited patiently for the rest of the security team to arrive.

Jenna was still stuck waiting outside in the hangar, as she didn't want to bring down the actual security team and arrest her, but the medic still waited by the entrance, and Jenna had to get going soon, or else the medic would get suspicious.

"Do you mind if I take care of this first?" Jenna asked the medic, pointing to the two passenger ships in the hangar.

"Oh, sure," the medic replied. "Not a problem. Sorry about that. We're in no hurry."

"Thanks," Jenna said back to the medic, as she made her way forward to the first passenger ship. She knocked on the window of the first ship and the pilot immediately lowered his window and looked up to Jenna.

"Hi," the pilot said with nervous excitement. "Are you the one who wanted to go to Corneria?"

"Yes," replied Jenna. "I'd like to leave immediately, if you wouldn't mind."

"No problem, Miss…"

"Jones," answered Jenna politely.

"I'll set off right now," said the pilot. "You're not taking your husband today?"

"No, not today, thank you," insisted Jenna, as looked towards the medic waiting by the entrance. The medic was staring intently at her communicator. Jenna quickly but quietly stepped inside the passenger ship and fastened her seat belt.

"Ok, now get going, quick!" ordered Jenna.

"Yes, Miss Jones," responded the pilot, as he went away from the hangar and out of the hospital ship. Once the ship got to a certain speed, Jenna looked around the area and noticed the two Republican cruisers getting very near the hospital. The passenger ship passed right underneath the Republican cruisers, all while not causing any suspicion to anyone around them.

Jenna took a few breaths of relief in the back of the passenger ship, as the pilot took out the receiver from the radio box and started talking to it.

"I'll be on my way in a few minutes, no worries," the pilot said to the radio receiver.

It then occurred to Jenna that the pilot was wearing a headset, and Jenna was able to pick up some sounds coming out of there. The pilot was able to communicate anyone sending out transmissions.

"What was that all about?" Jenna asked the pilot.

"Nothing to be concerned about," he replied. "Just going through customs before we can set off towards Corneria. Standard operation. Shouldn't take more than a minute."

Getting more nervous, Jenna leaned over towards the pilot and started talking directly in his ear as he flew towards the Republican checkpoint. "Do what I say… go around the checkpoint."

"Are you crazy?" yelled the pilot. "We'll both get arrested!"

"Not if I can help it," replied Jenna, as she grabbed the pilot by the neck and whacked it down towards the dashboard, sending him unconscious. Jenna then got the pilot out of the front seat and changed places with him, first by throwing him in the back seat, and then going into the front seat, taking over the controls, as she sped through the checkpoint and got the ship ready to go into hyperdrive.

Jenna unhooked the headset from the pilot so that she could hear through the radio to make sure that nobody noticed her passing through the checkpoint. She looked back and saw the Republican cruisers still hovering around the hospital. Jenna got the ship ready to jump straight into hyperdrive and blast her way far from the hospital, then… nothing. The ship didn't respond. Jenna tried everything to restore power to the ship, but nothing worked. Soon a couple of other cruisers coming from a different direction surrounded Jenna, and they were able to get in her way and stop the ship dead in its tracks.

Jenna tried moving the ship in any direction she could, fiddling frantically with the controls hoping that something would happen. But it was no use. Somehow, the power had been cut out from the passenger ship, and she was going to be arrested by the Republican Army for sure. Jenna could hear the pilot groaning from the back seat, and then it dawned on her - The pilot pulled the emergency switch underneath the driver's seat.

"Damn you," Jenna quietly growled to the pilot.

While the passenger ship was under tow from the Republican cruisers, Major Chen spoke on the intercom, knowing that Jenna would be listening in.

"You know," he commented, "you could have thought of a better plan than that to get out of here. You should have seen the look on the medic's face when she found out that you're a fake and a fraud. You won't be missed at all by anyone."

Jenna pounded the dashboard in frustration, crying bitterly as her ship was being dragged by the cruisers over to Corneria, off to where she was going to be put in jail.


	23. Chapter 23

Marcus woke up from his sleep again, feeling just as groggy as the day before, and shook his head to make himself more alert. He stretched his arms for a bit before dragging himself out of bed and went towards the washroom. He rubbed his eyes for a bit before looking back up at the mirror, and gazed into his own eyes. Somehow, he would figure out his own fate soon enough. His parents would inevitably figure this out, too.

Marcus went out of the washroom and got his work clothes on, then went towards the main room as he usually did in the morning. Wolf was already there, with a thermos already in his hand full of coffee.

"Good to see you're finally up," barked Wolf. "We're almost at Titania. Meet me on the bridge." He then walked to the back of the room, leaving Marcus to fill his cup in silence. The coffee was barely lukewarm by now. He guzzled it down within a span of a minute, and then made his way towards the bridge as planned.

On his way there, he found Robert slowly making his way to the bridge as well, walking near the wall with his communicator firmly in his hands. Marcus could tell that Robert was focused on something which was deeply saddening to him, but couldn't exactly tell what that was.

"You doing ok?" Marcus asked Robert.

Robert took himself out of the trance he was with his communicator. "Yeah," he replied. "I'm fine. Just thinking about what happened recently, I guess."

"Why?" asked Marcus. "What's over is done with. You don't need to focus on those bastards any longer. They're in jail now."

Robert thought to himself for a few seconds over that statement. "Good point, I guess. I just keep seeing that guy you shot down, you know? All that blood everywhere, man, it's just driving me crazy…"

"He tried to kill me, too, you know," said Marcus. "It was either him or me."

"I know," replied Robert. "It just set me back a little…"

The two entered the bridge together, as Wolf was impatiently waiting at the front of the bridge, staring out the window looking over Titania.

"Is there anyone out there from the Republican Army?" asked Robert.

"Not more than the usual amount of ships," said Wolf. "The majority of the reserves are out on Venom right now. Even if they find us, it'll take them a while for them to show up here. Which they won't, because since they arrested those fools a few days ago, they haven't been looking for us anymore. Our plan is going as I thought it would. We should have no trouble invading the base there."

Robert casually scanned the local radar, checking to see the surrounding area around them. "Can you send in the co-ordinates of the Republican base?" he asked Wolf.

Wolf entered in the digits of the co-ordinates, and the location showed up immediately on the radar screen for everyone to see.

"Looks like there's two cruisers in the nearby area of the base right now," Robert confirmed to everyone. "There could be a sandstorm coming in soon, so we should get in as soon as we can."

"We haven't a moment to lose, then," Wolf ordered the team. "Let's get down there!"

The team immediately went down towards the hangar and jumped right into their ships, readying all their preliminary checks along the way.

"Make sure everyone has their masks available to them today," Wolf said to everyone. "The sandstorm will affect the air quality and visibility by quite a lot, so we can't afford to take that advantage away from everyone else."

Marcus made sure his mask was readily available and that it could be easily reached within a matter of seconds if necessary. He kept it within the right hand side of his cockpit, and even mimicked putting the mask on while the engine of his Wolfen warmed up.

Once everyone was set to go, the four Wolfens left in unison, with Robert surveying the area up in the Amethyst. The team went as fast as they could, blasting through the thick and humid Titania air, as they zeroed in on the base.

The squad passed through the stratosphere, and Wolf was able to communicate with Robert from above again. "Any ships in our direct path?"

"Just the two cruisers that I told you about earlier," confirmed Robert. "They seem to be patrolling the area."

"It's best if we lay low for now while we can," explained Wolf, "so that we don't upset them. We'll only take them down if we absolutely have to."

Marcus turned down his engine so that it was at its lowest possible setting, quiet enough to sneak around the desolate planet, while also reducing its ability to be scanned by radar as well. All the other Wolfens followed suit as well.

The two Republican cruisers appeared on their radar screens, slowly creeping up as the team approached the base.

"Best to break off for now and get away for a bit?" Duncan asked Wolf.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied. "If they find any of you, speed off and call for help. We'll blast them away if we have to. Robert, you sure there's no other ships near us?"

"I'm positive," Robert replied on the intercom.

Wolf was perfectly content and relaxed inside his Wolfen. "Keep an eye on us, then, would ya?"

The team split off separately, and they all went briefly in different directions, but they all headed in the same general direction after a while. Marcus was the only one that stayed on his present course, slightly away from where the two cruisers were heading. Marcus decided it was best to fly really low and really slowly, so as to not disturb the air around him.

Marcus could then see the Republican cruisers himself, and Marcus landed the ship out of sight from the enemies above by hiding in between the sand dunes. He carefully watched the cruisers pass through the side, nervously seeing their symbols run across the radar screen as they slowly drifted away.

He listened to the intercom for a minute to see if anyone else from the Republic was on their way. There wasn't any messages coming in on the radio, so Marcus knew there wasn't anything of any importance that was coming at his way.

Marcus then set his Wolfen off the ground and started making his way to the base again, but out of the corner of his radar, he noticed the Republican cruisers hastily making their way towards another ship. Marcus turned to see Duncan to his right, and the cruisers following right behind him.

"Looks like Duncan's been seen," said Marcus through the intercom.

"I know," Duncan replied back, "I can handle this!" He then looped around the cruisers so that he was right behind them for a brief moment, but the cruisers also replied with a loop of their own.

"You can see Duncan?" asked Wolf to Marcus. "Try to take down the cruisers if you can. If you keep them busy enough, they might be distracted with you guys so that we can enter easier."

Marcus dutifully went towards Duncan and the Republican cruisers, and started firing lasers at them to let them know that he was there to back Duncan up. The cruisers split off and picked one Wolfen to shoot at, and Marcus soon sped off away from the base to lure the Republican cruiser away from Michelle and Wolf.

"These jerks are better than I thought they were," groaned Duncan. "They don't joke around here!"

"Only goes to show you that they got something to hide around here," explained Marcus, as he flew around the Republican cruiser. He kept taking tons of shots at the cruiser, but they all kept missing the ship.

As Marcus and Duncan were fighting to keep the Republican cruisers away, Michelle and Wolf safely landed their Wolfens not far from the base, and quickly jumped out of their cockpits with their masks on. Michelle then went towards the door of the base, bolted down with heavy steel and concrete, and set the bombs on the door to blast it away. Once Michelle took a few steps back, she let the bombs go off. The blast shook Wolf and Michelle off their feet, and sent them flying back towards the hard, coarse ground.

Wolf slowly got up from the ground, shaking off the dirt that was spread all over his body. "How much explosives did you put on that door?" he groaned.

"Just enough," Michelle replied. She took a flashlight and shone it through the hole that the explosives made through the door, noticing the two workers that suffered much more than Wolf and Michelle did. The room itself in the entrance wasn't that big to begin with, so they didn't stand much of a chance. Michelle took down the rest of the door easily, and the two were easily able to make their way inside the entrance and into the base itself.

Inside, there was a number of computers, some of them guidance computers able to communicate back towards the Republican Army, but there was only the one that Wolf was really interested in. It was one that was able to get inside the main database of the Army, and it stood out from all the other computers. Wolf planted a bug inside that computer, and waited for the bug to fully turn on before proceeding further. His eyes were wide open, taking in every moment that he was seeing through, as he saw his plan come together after a long time of planning.

"This is working perfectly," Wolf said, holding in his excitement. "Cover me in case somebody else decides to get smart and interrupt us. I'll radio in Robert so he can start hacking into this thing."

Wolf then sat back down next to the database computer with his blaster in his hand, closing his eyes and thinking of what he will do with all the information that he was about to get. And he started to snicker a bit, too, only now just realizing how powerful he was to become.

"I got access to the data now," Robert declared on the intercom.

"Good work, son," Wolf replied. "How long do you think it will take to download everything?"

"Might take about a half an hour, given the distance the Amethyst is from the surface," answered Robert. "Are Duncan and Marcus taking care of those guys down there?"

Michelle heard this and briefly stepped outside the base, looking up towards the sky to see the dogfight. From a distance away, she could see the ships battling with each other as the wind started to pick up the sand and swirl it around her.

"Looks like they're far away, and nobody else is nearby as far as I can see for now," Michelle confirmed to Robert, shaking off the sand off herself.

Robert started the download of the Republican Army database, and then ran back to the radar to check for any other enemies. Other than the two ships that Duncan and Marcus were battling, there weren't any other ships that were even close to the base. As the database slowly downloaded, Robert could do nothing for now except wait for everyone to do their jobs and hope for the best. He sat there, quietly and impatiently waiting for something to happen.

An alarm set off on the dashboard of the Amethyst, and Robert jumped up and ran towards the radar to see what was going on. There was an incoming ship coming from hyperspace.

"Uh oh," he said to himself. "We've got company."

A Republican ship arrived right next to the Amethyst, and started to fire directly at it. Robert started to dodge the bulky ship around, but it was simply too big to be easily manoeuvrable.

"We got a Republican ship trying to take us down," Robert said to Wolf on the intercom. "We only got started a couple of minutes ago, and we don't have much data."

"Just get the important bits for now, Robert," ordered Wolf. He could hear an explosion occur outside the base, and looked outside to see one of the Republican cruisers engulfed in flames. "Things are ok at ground level, so try to keep them at bay."

The Republican ship still kept firing directly at the Amethyst, and the shields were barely holding on. "I'll try to speed up the download, but I don't have much time left!"

Wolf went back towards Michelle, grabbing out his blaster. "Get up there and take the last cruiser down, and then drive everyone up to space and see what you can do about that ship that's just arrived," he ordered. "I'll stay down here, I can take care of myself."

Michelle nodded her head, and went towards her Wolfen and jumped inside the cockpit, blasting off into the sky immediately afterwards. She spotted the cruiser and immediately shot right at it from a long distance away. The cruiser was overwhelmed, surrounded by the Wolfens as the combination of the three ships firing directly at the cruiser meant it stood no chance of surviving, and it eventually crashed down into the sand dunes.

"Thanks for helping me out there," Duncan said to Michelle on the radio.

"Been a bit behind, lately, have you?" she joked back.

"Come on," Duncan groaned. "It's not like you could have done any better."

"Enough of that," Michelle dismissed. "The Amethyst is under attack by the Republic, let's get up there and show them we mean business."

Duncan blasted upwards into space with Michelle, with Marcus closely following behind them. As they entered into space, they could all see the Amethyst was badly damaged from the attack.

"Got any smart bombs?" Duncan asked the team.

"I got one," Marcus replied.

Duncan surprised himself. "Been holding out on us, have you?"

"Saving it for just such an occasion," smirked Marcus. He set his sights on the Republican ship and locked it on the bridge. He set it away and it took a direct hit, even after the ship noticed the bomb coming towards it and tried to change course. The bridge itself wasn't heavily damaged, however. There was only a visible mark left on the ship, but the ship remained structurally intact.

Disgruntled, Michelle flew her Wolfen to the back of the ship and started shooting straight at its engines, hoping to get right through, but the shields were holding on the Republican ship. Duncan and Marcus followed suit by shooting lasers anywhere they could on the ship, but there wasn't much of an effect that they could see.

"Surrender yourselves," boomed the captain of the Republican ship to the Star Wolf team. "This is the Republican Army. Surrender and disarm yourselves to be taken into custody."

"They want to arrest us?" mocked Duncan. "You would think they would want to just get rid of us."

"Standard procedure," explained Marcus.

Duncan chuckled to himself. "Of course I know that, you fool. We got these guys, though," he said, as he charged to the front of the Republican ship. Firing away, Duncan kept shooting at the Republican ship in vain, as each hit did no further damage than the ones before it.

"How's the download going, Robert?" asked Michelle.

"Just over sixty percent," replied Robert.

"Dang, we need to stall them for just a bit longer, so that we can get away quickly afterwards," explained Michelle. "We don't even need to blast this ship to pieces."

"It's looking like that's the only way we're going to be able to get the whole download in safely," admitted Marcus. He then took a few deep breaths and made his way towards the Republican ship again, determined to take it down. He started firing at the ship, but also searched to see if there were any weak spots at all on there, trying to see if he could manage to find a sweet spot to inflict the amount of damage they needed to engulf the ship in flames. But there wasn't any obvious "sweet spots" that he could see that could do such a thing. Marcus kept shooting at the ship with the rest of the team, almost in vain, hoping that something would happen to it that would change the course of the battle.

"I got an idea," Michelle boomed on the intercom. "Send me the last smart bomb, Robert."

"Sure thing," Robert replied back, "but this had better work. I don't know how much longer the shields will hold." Robert sent the supply box over to where the battle was going on, and Michelle flew her Wolfen over to pick up the bomb and immediately equipped it to fire. This time, though, she was more careful not to fire straight at the ship right away. Instead, she flew right next to the Republican ship, getting very close to where the ship's turrets could easily fire at her.

Marcus was stunned seeing Michelle going so close to the line of fire, but he instead focused back on shooting at the ship. As he fired away, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that the turret that was shooting at Michelle was not shooting at her anymore, even though Michelle was right in front of it. Marcus swung his Wolfen to get a clearer picture of the turrets, and he noticed that the smart bomb was somehow placed inside the turret unexploded, and wedged so deep that the turret could not move in any direction.

"Just shoot at it, Marcus!" Michelle said on the radio.

Marcus locked on to the smart bomb and sent a charged shot over to it, then turned his Wolfen around and sped away from the Republican ship. As he saw the charge shot go off on the smart bomb, the smart bomb exploded and completely destroyed the turret right beside it, and also took out a large portion of the surrounding area, leaving parts of the engine room exposed.

"That's the opening we need!" confirmed Michelle. Soon the three Wolfens started firing in unison at the exposed part of the engine room, sending in tons of lasers over there. The heat coming from the lasers was able to melt some of the metal beams of the ship, and the engines were also overwhelmed with the intensity and frequency of the lasers being fired there. As the back of the Republican ship started to deteriorate, smiles could be seen across the faces of the Star Wolf team.

"Awesome job," smirked Michelle. "They won't be able to fire back at us for quite some time."

"Just in time, too," remarked Robert. "The shields are at their limit right now. The download is just about complete, though."

"Excellent work," said Wolf as he started to pack up and get himself ready to leave Titania amongst the blowing sand, barely able to see outside. Wolf hardly looked concerned at all, however, as he gathered his blaster and maintained his focus at the entrance, preparing his quick getaway.

Robert, clearing all the flames and wreckage on the bridge of the Amethyst, nervously checked on the download progress and on his father back on Titania. The percentage to completion slowly ticked away, down to the last digit, the last number, the last progress bar on the screen that cruelly took forever to go through. At last, the download was completed, and all the data was in their hands now.

Wolf got all of the things left on the base on Titania – the data bank, his blaster, and anything else he found of worth on there – identification cards, loose copper wires, and so on. He put everything all in the cockpit and jumped right inside, not wasting a moment to get himself going through the sandstorm and on his way out of the treacherous planet. He was thankful to be finally gone from that terrible place, and once he got into orbit he tore off the mask he had to wear down there.

After seeing Wolf boarding in the hangar alongside the rest of the team, Robert was able to get the ship going somewhat, though it remained obvious that the Amethyst was damaged and lost some of its propulsion power, as its usual "get up and go" was nowhere to be found when the ship finally started moving away from Titania.

Marcus and Michelle slumped on their chairs as they arrived on the bridge, exhausted from their battle. They both thought about how close the team was to having their plan be completely ruined by the rough conditions of the planet and the Republic.

But through their victory, Marcus couldn't help but feel hollow and conflicted. It felt like everything had just happened in their favour, and the team got little reward for nearly being killed out there. He wondered what to do with himself now that his team's primary goal had suddenly been realized.

Wolf stormed onto the bridge and went right to Robert. Robert was relieved to finally see Wolf again, but as Wolf gave him the device containing the database, he immediately went towards their computer and uploaded everything onto the ship as quickly as possible.

"We got it," Wolf boasted. "Everything the Republic has, all their double agents, their passwords, every dirty little secret they have tucked away we have control of now. Soon everything will be revealed to the galaxy."

Robert gave a thumbs up to Wolf, and Wolf went over to the monitor to access the secret agent roster. Wolf began typing away at the computer, knowing exactly the codename he wanted to find out. "Dash Bowman," he uttered quietly to himself. As the results began showing up on the computer, he oddly started chuckling to himself in disbelief.

"What's the matter?" Marcus asked Wolf.

"See for yourself," Wolf insisted. "The man who started the downfall of Venom itself is there, right before you."

Marcus went over to the computer, and shook his head in disbelief. He was bitter, angry, and disappointed for not figuring it out sooner. "Could this be true?" he asked Wolf.

"Of course," Wolf replied. "This came straight from the Republic itself. And you know what they keep saying about themselves, 'Nothing can be wrong in the Lylat Republic," he said mockingly. "We have the culprit in our grasp. Not even the general of the Republic can prevent the truth being known to Venom now."

Marcus then started to feel better about himself. He realized that only now would their real mission start to begin. The capture of the database was only the first step to figuring out the truth of the Lylat Republic.


	24. Chapter 24

Clara just felt hopeless, abandoned, and even tortured, being kept inside solitary confinement. It felt like everything had been taken away from her, and not just the material things, but also the people she knew and loved, and the freedom of expression, thought, and movement. She could only stare at these blank walls for so long before giving up finding something interesting to say about it and instead tried to think of something else. But the only things that could possibly go under her mind at the moment where these questions:

_Why did Jonathan have to die?_

_Why did Marcus turn into a murderous savage?_

_Why are we being blamed for all this?_

_Why didn't I listen to my dad?_

And more importantly:

_Why?_

As in, why she was contemplating life itself and the existence of it. Why she felt like leaving everything behind and ending her existence once and for all. It certainly felt that way right now in her padded jail cell, without a single soul in sight for hours.

"If this is the end," Clara said to herself, "then let me know."

Indeed, she wanted to simply float away from the universe and never return, and not have to worry about being missed by anyone. She had nothing left to live for; her best friend dead, her brother the culprit, and everyone, especially those in the Republican Army, whom she had worked to serve with for most of her life, now turning against her and leaving her in darkness, even in the bright lights of the jail cell.

Cold and heartbroken at her fate, she returned back to the colourless, featureless walls, and listened to the buzzing of the vents sitting above her head. After a minute, she turned away from the wall, much like she did every other time, and then the memories flooded back again. The battle in space, Jonathan laying motionless on the bridge… the lack of a warm shoulder to lean on a cold sunrise at Fichina, and the smiles that came with it. Soon, there were tears again. Tears and sobs and shudders throughout the night, and nothing else to break the cycle. Nothing but a cold, hard floor to sit on. Nothing but her own thoughts and emotions, trapped inside and desperate to get out into the open. Nothing but the air around her to breathe in and out.

Clara found some dust lying on the ground not far from where her head was on the floor. In vain, she moved it around with her fingers and did what she could to stimulate her brain, but it was no use. She found herself with a calamity of problems; she was tired, but could not rest; hungry, but could not find a way to drive her instincts to nourish her craving; thirsty, but unable to quench her mouth.

_This is the end_ , she thought to herself, where all good people go to die and dreams and fantasies go to be crushed all at once.

Her mind then shut itself off for a moment, and then it turned itself back on again. Someone was there, staring straight at her. Her body was in the same place it was before. She couldn't explain what had happened to her, but she must have awoken just now. Which was strange, because she didn't recall getting any kind of rest. Clara slowly got herself up with the same amount of energy as she did the last time she remembered being conscious.

"Finally decided to wake up, I see," the voice said to Clara.

Clara's vision was blurry, but slowly as she started to veer back into consciousness she could see more of her surroundings as she saw colour and detail for the first time in what seemed like ages. The uniform the man was wearing was white, with green markings all around. Immediately, she thought,  _Republic._

"I'm only here to help you," the soldier insisted in a soft voice. "If you co-operate with this investigation of ours, you'll be free from this room soon enough. But if you don't, then I can only wish you the best of luck."

Clara glared right into the soldier's blue eyes, trying to appeal to his natural instincts; namely, the instincts that tell people to do what is good and right for society, and not merely what the authorities tell you to do. The soldier didn't immediately respond, and his warm face quickly turned sour.

"You leave me little choice, then," the soldier sighed.

Bitter and trembling, Clara continued to glare right at the soldier and bit her lips. "Go to hell," she scowled.

The soldier got himself up from the floor left, locking the door of the jail cell behind him. And once again, Clara was left with nothing but the cold hard floor and the air around her to breathe.

The soldier was leafing through some paperwork not far from where Clara's jail cell was. One of his superiors walked by and the soldier couldn't help but speak to him. "It's strange," the soldier said out loud to his superior. "All their lives, people her age just want to have no worries at all and the security of the nation. She has both, and yet, she is bitter and unhappy. What more can I do for her?" The two men both shook their heads and continued to what they were doing before.

In another jail cell, not far down the hall from where Clara was, the rest of the "Star Falco" team, as they had been kindly named by the members of the press, were also laid out in their solitary jail cells of their own. Greg was taking the torture just as well as Clara was. As for Falco, he was the most relaxed of them all – which was ironic, since he was probably the guiltiest out of all the members.

Falco laid in his cell flat on his back, with his arms spread out. He had been through a solitary confinement room before, and for periods much longer than this. He knew all the Republic's tricks, and he also knew that these rooms were only used to make people insane. He'd seen it enough times already through other prisoners before.

When Major Chen stepped into Falco's cell, Falco sarcastically grinned back at him, perhaps to tell him that he wasn't too happy being locked up in a bird cage.

"I've done all that I can to aid your investigation," explained Major Chen.

"Have you?" Falco replied, giving a curious look.

Major Chen sighed. "Listen, I can try and piece together a good defense for you, but the whole Army is going against you. They won't believe a word you say." He took a chair and sat down, leaning forward. "I don't need to tell you just how much shit you're in right now."

"Speak for yourself," said Falco. "You've got Venom knocking on your doorstep, and you think  _I'm_  the one who's in trouble? You don't know what you're about to get into."

"Now whose fault is that?" Chen asked Falco.

Falco fell silent, letting the words sink deep into his skull. "You know much better than I do," he finally answered.

"Perhaps," said Chen quietly, getting up from the chair and taking it with him. As Chen closed the door, Falco briefly waved back at him, if only in a vain attempt to find humour even in the darkest moments. But Major Chen noticed him out of the corner of his eye as he was locking up the cell, and as he walked through the hallway he couldn't take that image of Falco waving to him as he left. Major Chen found the superior that had been with the soldier before, and started talking to him about the prisoners.

"Maybe he's starting to get loony," Major Chen sighed.

"Then it's probably time we started looking at more…  _alternative_  interrogation tactics, huh? I was thinking of using sleep drugs on the leader," the superior officer said, pulling out a tranquilizer gun. "It's not exactly a truth serum, but the drug will put him to sleep almost immediately, and the buggers tend to be more co-operative shortly after they wake up from a long rest. It's those first few crucial moments when they're starting to wake up and their instincts and training haven't fully kicked in yet, and they let their guard down."

Major Chen was handed the tranquilizer gun from the superior officer, and Chen gazed into the contraption. "How long do the drugs last for?"

"Eight hours," answered the superior officer. "It'll be enough time for us to gather some more information together that we can really grill him on."

Major Chen started thinking about the first time he met Falco. It was shortly after the Anglar Invasion, when Falco was first interested in joining the merged Republican Army. Falco was more energetic then, but his determination and sense of morality still remained, even to this day. He could still picture Falco sulking in the jail cell in his mind, piercing his routine thoughts. He thought long and hard about their friendship, how many tough times they've been through together, how many days when Falco would help him out through boring routine reports and the occasional terrorist group that would pop up every now and then across Lylat. Falco was a loyal, if quiet, officer for the Republic, and Major Chen owed him a debt of gratitude.

"Something the matter?" the superior officer asked Major Chen.

"Nothing," Chen replied back. He forgot he was standing blankly in the middle of the hallway carrying the tranquilizer gun. He noted to himself that there were four tranquilizer darts in the gun. Feeling a slight tinge in his heart, Major Chen slowly walked towards Falco's jail cell and scanned the area for anyone else nearby himself besides the superior officer.

The next moment, Major Chen saw the superior officer lying cold on the ground, with a tranquilizer dart in his neck. Chen was startled when he finally realized what he was about to go through to save his friend, and that he couldn't possibly turn back now. Major Chen then quickly turned around to the sounds of running footsteps from a concerned soldier.

"What happened?" the soldier hollered, before Major Chen put another dart into the soldier's body, sending him down as well. Chen then dragged the superior officer to the nearby desk and placed him in a way that would make him appear to sleep on top of the desk, while sitting on the chair near it. Chen then got access to the security cameras and took them all out of service, hiding any evidence from the prying eyes of the Republic. He then took the officer's blaster and quickly returned to Falco's cell and opened the door.

"Get up, man," Chen demanded.

"Or else what?" Falco stormed back.

"Don't make me pop this into you the same way I popped this into that guard over there," Chen replied, pointing towards the soldier lying down on the ground. "See for yourself."

Falco got up from the floor and peeked out the entrance of the jail cell, and saw the soldier for himself. "Well, that's great and all," he joked, "but how is my team supposed to get out of here without the Republic sending us back?"

"I have an idea. Wait here for a bit." Major Chen went towards the soldier on the ground and grabbed a blaster from his pocket, and then ran back towards the cell. "With my blaster, I have three so far. We just need one more."

"One of my teammates is dead, remember?" scowled Falco.

"We found another person who claimed to be on your team. Name's Jenna Grey. Records showed she was in frequent contact with you, and she confessed to wanting to join your team. That's all we got from her, though."

Falco's eyes lit up in surprise. "Well, that's a relief, I guess… but how am I going to get our ships out of here?"

"I haven't thought that far out," admitted Major Chen. "Right now I'm just trying to get your guys out of here before the guards find out the cameras are off and they come rushing over here to figure out what's going on." Major Chen fumbled through the keys of the jail cell and handed one of them over to Falco. "Here," he said, "open up the one behind me."

Falco obliged and opened up the jail cell, finding Greg inside. Greg was confused at first, but after he processed that Falco was frantically opening up the jail cells, he rushed out of there as quickly as he could.

Major Chen opened up the cell which had Jenna inside, and she walked out there, noticing Falco and being pleasantly surprised. "Falco!" she said. "You made it!"

Falco shushed Jenna to keep her voice down. "Here, take this blaster," he told Jenna in a hushed tone.

Jenna gladly took the blaster from Falco's hands and took the safety off as Falco opened up Clara's cell. Clara was lying on the floor, staring at the wall and clearly in a state of shock.

"Come on, Clara, get up," Falco told her, as he brought her up from the ground. Clara was able to walk, but still had blank eyes on her head. All her senses had been locked away in her mind, and needed some time for them to be activated again.

Once Falco and Clara got out of the cell, the team and Major Chen all went towards the end of the hallway where the exit to the prison was, and where the team could reach the hangar.

"Obviously I can't go with you guys to the hangar, but you could go in there and sneak away on a ship somehow," explained Major Chen.

"Somehow?" Falco said, worryingly.

"I know, it's a bit of a longshot," admitted Chen. "The best thing I can offer is to take one of the civilian ships in there. It'll be much harder to track than anything the Republic may have."

Falco shrugged at the suggestion. "Well, what have we got to lose? No sense waiting around here." He then held onto Clara's shoulder and turned towards Greg and Jenna. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here," he groaned.

As the team went out of the exit of the prison and went towards the hangar, Falco turned to Major Chen and gave a small but warm smile. "Thanks buddy," Falco said to him. "I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it," insisted Major Chen. "I'll see you soon."

"Of course," replied Falco. Falco could hear the hums of the engines as they were walking, and it finally dawned on him that the team was taken prisoner onboard a Republican cruiser.

" _Great_ ," Falco thought to himself. " _No sense going off on foot, then._ "

Falco went out of the prison with the team, and Major Chen was left inside with a couple of unconscious soldiers and the biggest enemies of the Republican Army now let loose. And he had no regrets whatsoever about doing this, at least until the authorities showed up a couple of minutes later and saw the evidence for themselves. The authorities searched long and hard for the Star Falco team, but with the cameras inoperative, they couldn't track the team down, and so the authorities simply gave up and arrested Major Chen and threw him in one of the empty jail cells.

But the Star Falco team went over to the hangar, hiding themselves behind some crates lying around inside. Jenna and Greg each held a blaster, while Falco was more concerned making sure Clara was able to adjust to the outside world in time. She was still in a daze as they entered the hangar and hid behind the crates.

"There's a few guards around here, but they don't seem to know we've been let out just yet," explained Jenna.

"Major Chen told me to use a civilian ship as our getaway vehicle," explained Falco. "There's one just ahead of us in the far corner."

"I recognize that ship from somewhere else," Greg figured out. "It should have the capability to go into hyperspace, and then we'll be out of here in no time."

Falco turned over to check on Clara, and she was more alert than a few minutes ago, but she was still in discomfort. She was shaking her head, and her eyes were red from a lack of rest.

"Sorry," Clara groaned. "I don't know what's going on inside me right now."

"Forget about it," grunted Falco. "Just get up and get to that ship over there," pointing to the civilian ship.

As the team made their way there, one of the guards nearby heard some footsteps around him and drew out his weapon, turning to where he could hear those steps. Jenna, however, snuck up behind the guard and knocked him down, allowing the rest of the team through.

"Good work," Falco smiled to Jenna.

Jenna saw Clara and Greg stumble their way onboard the ship, as she and Falco followed behind them, and couldn't help but notice that somebody was missing. Falco could tell her concern right away because she was staring right at him, and Jenna figured out right away without speaking to each other what had happened to the person she was looking for.

_"Jonathan's gone, I'm guessing…"_ thought Jenna, despondently glazing towards the ground, saddened but not at all surprised at what had happened. It was a harsh reality of working with the Republican Army.

Greg took out the only pilot that was in the cockpit, and started up the engines to get out of the hangar. It was then he realized that the ship wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, because the security locks were still in place.

Without hesitation, Clara went over to the main computer inside the ship and started typing furiously away - just to calm her nerves down. If anything, it would have kept her mind off the chaos going on around her. She started scanning through the ship's menus, going through just about anything that could help out the team in any way. The first item on the "diagnosis" menu brought up a "self-scan," so Clara started that up. The engines started firing up slowly behind her, and enough heat emitted from the back that it blinded the guards running up to the hijacked ship, blissfully unaware of what Clara was trying to do.

The next item in the menu read "safety." Curious, Clara opened the menu and it gave a whole sort of options available in the system, about a hundred or so. She quickly surfed through all the options, carelessly glossing over each item...

"There's a bunch of soldiers with rocket launchers!" shouted Greg from the cockpit.

Clara started scanning the menu options faster, and started activating every option in sight. Doors kept opening and closing at will, alarms started going off all over the place, and the whole ship was turning into a malfunctioning mess.

"What the hell's going on?" barked Falco.

Then the ship started to levitate off the ground, and Greg took full advantage of this by putting his foot down on the accelerator, sending everyone flying backward and the ship skyrocketing out of the hangar and into the distance. Within a minute, they were well out of sight from any Republican cruiser.

Falco was just barely able to get back onto his feet while the ship they were on kept swerving and swaying from side to side. "Jeez," he uttered to himself, "the things I'd do for the Army to get off my back!"

Greg looked behind to Clara as soon as he was able to catch his breath and make sure there weren't any cruisers directly behind him. "Who took off the security locks?" he asked publicly. "I couldn't figure it out for the life of me!"

Major Chen saw the ship fly out of there, and smiled seeing it go off into the distance. His work was done, and his friend was safe from the authorities again. It didn't bother him too much that there was a soldier pinning his body down with his knees, compressing his chest flat. The pain was secondary to the knowledge that justice was right in the universe once again.

After a minute, Chen was dragged over to the captain's office, situated in a dark alley of the building. Chen knew what was going to happen to him next, and his heart started racing and beating rapidly. He was short of breath as the soldiers burst into the office, with the captain already sitting down at her desk with a grim look on her face.

Major Chen was thrown down onto the ground as he tried wrestling his way out of his bind, but could not as he was bound on his hands and knees. He was still in his uniform, but it was torn and shredded as he was dragged across. Still, he found a way to look up at the captain, knowing his ultimate fate.

"I shouldn't be surprised to see someone like you around here," Captain Meyer said grimly to Chen. "But then again, who else could do this but his 'lifelong' friend that's stuck by Falco all these years?"

Captain Meyer drew out a blaster out of her pocket, admiring its details as sweat was dripping down Chen's head. "I should be grateful, then," Meyer continued, "I could have spent valuable time and resources chasing you down. But you just made my life a whole lot easier." A few moments later, Meyer fired her blaster at Chen, killing him instantly. Wiping off the blood that was spattered across her, she waved her fingers to bring the rest of the stunned soldiers forward. "Take care of the body," Meyer ordered. "I'll take care of the search party."

Star Falco was safely away – for now – but time was running short. Within a few minutes of their escape, all the channels and media had been bombarded with messages telling the whole galaxy that Falco had escaped, and that they were now offering a huge bounty for his head. It was blaring all across the speakers in the civilian ship they were on, which was forced to stay on a channel sponsored by the Republican Army.

Falco felt so nauseous that he found the fuel room and hid there, almost vomiting a few times. His breath tasted like trash, and each movement of the ship almost seemed to churn his stomach even more than usual.

Just when Falco seemed to get his stomach under control, Clara entered the fuel room, stunned to find Falco in his condition.

"What are you doing here?" grumbled Falco.

"I was only checking the fuel levels of the ship," replied Clara, noticing that Falco's face was turning pale.

"You're hurt…" said Clara with concern.

"No…" Falco tried to dismiss the question. "All the announcements, they're all saying that I'm the killer… and I have a huge target on my back. I don't know what to do."

"Are you crazy?" Clara shouted. "You know it's not true, you even said so!"

Falco waved his hand to hush down Clara. "That's the thing… It was me all along. I'm the killer they're looking for."


	25. Chapter 25

The threat of war loomed in the sharp, crisp air of Macbeth as Marcus stepped outside the Amethyst and onto the soggy land beneath his feet. He was amazed to find the industrialized planet cleaner than he initially anticipated, although the weather was as cold as he expected. He was in a foul mood, so it rather suited him quite well.

The wind howled around the team, and all around him Marcus could see the many people of Macbeth living in the marketplace around their base, where all their weapons had been stashed in preparation for the battle with Corneria. The place wasn't packed, but there was enough people walking around aimlessly to give the impression that the marketplace was at least somewhat busy, given Macbeth's low economic standards, so it was a perfect cover for the prying eyes of the Republic.

As the team arrived at their secret location hidden in an alleyway of the town, Wolf pulled out a grate inside one of the walls, revealing a keypad that he typed in a passcode in. Once they waited a few seconds, part of the wall popped open quietly, and Wolf checked around the area to make sure nobody else was looking. He waved the rest of the team in as he kept checking, confident that the rest of the town was unaware of where they went, before heading in himself and locking the door behind him.

"Get the guidance systems ready, Marcus," Wolf ordered.

A hinge of dread loomed over Marcus as he heard those words, knowing full well what would mean when the systems would go online. But there was no turning back now, not if it meant punishment and isolation from everyone who knew him.

Marcus set down his equipment and glanced over at Robert. Robert was confused by the way Marcus suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"What's the matter?" asked Robert.

"Nothing," insisted Marcus. He looked around the room, searching the walls intensely. "I just have the feeling we're being watched."

"That's silly," said Robert. "The only people who know about this place are us. Nobody else knows about this place."

"I know," sighed Marcus, "but I just have a bad feeling about this place. Everything's all over the place, and the room's giving me the creeps."

"Well, we haven't exactly had a chance to get this place cleaned up," explained Robert, rolling his eyes. "Maybe somebody got inside briefly. But nobody could have possibly found out about anything inside here unless they had the passcode for the weapons system."

"Good point," exhaled Marcus in relief. "Maybe I'm going crazy, thinking of all this crap inside my head."

Robert turned over to Marcus, seeing him shaking his head in frustration. "You're feeling ok?" asked Robert. "You haven't exactly been level headed the past few weeks."

"What do you mean by that?" barked Marcus.

"Well, between killing that guy onboard Falco's ship – I mean, that left a blood trail that could lead the Army back here, and that guy wasn't really all that important in the whole scheme of things…"

"Why does that matter? I didn't want to take any chances," scowled Marcus.

"Who was that chick that tried to fight back with you on there?" yelled Robert. "It sounded like she knew you."

Marcus turned away from Robert, frowning at his question. "Mind your own business. That's just between her and me."

Robert was stunned, and backed away slightly away from Marcus, not wanting to incite Marcus any further.

Marcus could tell inside Robert's mind that he thought there was a relationship between him and Clara – and Marcus knew immediately that he had to put his rumours to rest right then and there.

"It's not one of  _those_  relationships," growled Marcus.

"I never said anything like that," replied Robert.

"I don't even know the fucker," barked Marcus. "Listen, don't bring this up again, I've got enough on my mind already."

"Alright, I'm sorry, forget it, alright?" Robert didn't say anything more, leaving Marcus to continue his work on the guidance systems in awkward silence. After a while, Robert left the room, and Marcus was left alone in his own thoughts.

"Who does he think he is asking all these inane questions and poking around my personal life?" Marcus grumbled to himself. "At least he's gone now."

* * *

"You're sure you want to do this?" asked Robert cautiously.

"Of course I am," growled Wolf. "Do you think I'm crazy? I'm starting to regret bringing him on the team in the first place. He's turning into a liability." Wolf slammed down his beer bottle in a fit of rage.

"I don't quite know what's up with him," said Robert, "but something's just not right about him. He's been acting too recklessly, and he keeps acting all defensive about everything."

"Don't we all…" suggested Wolf. "You've been guilty of that yourself."

"Dad…"

"It's true, pup," Wolf snickered. "Don't go around being too proud of yourself, thinking you're better than other people, when you're not a shining example yourself. But you've got a good head screwed on your shoulders. You're smart enough to figure that out."

"Figure what out?" asked Robert.

"How you can be the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. Your first catch begins tonight."

Robert stood back up from the chair and drew a heavy breath. "I don't want to kill him, after all I've done for him."

"We won't," insisted Wolf. "He's worth more alive, anyways. And once he's in their more than capable hands, that'll give them a valuable distraction for us to transport the missiles over to Corneria to begin the war."

Robert froze when Wolf told of his plan. "Is this the only way to make our voices heard by the Republic?"

Wolf stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes, deep in thought. "If there was another way," explained Wolf, "then we would have found it already." Wolf then laid his hand down on the wall and leaned against it, struggling to keep his composure.

"Is something wrong, Dad?" asked Robert, bringing his arm over his dad's shoulder.

Wolf turned his body around and slumped down solemnly against the wall. "It just got me to think about what happened all those years ago… About what happened to my mate…" Wolf was trying his best not to fall apart in front of his son. "He knew about everything," said Wolf softly. "Leon knew about what the Army was planning to do with Dash Bowman, and what the Army really had planned out. The Army didn't care at all about Venom. It was the Cornerians dominating us all over again."

"I remember you telling me about Leon a long time ago," replied Robert. "What did Leon do again?"

Wolf drew a heavy sigh. "He was a teammate of mine…and my best friend. I've had many teammates over the years, but he was the only one who always stuck by me through thick and thin, and all the crap that went around the universe. He knew what was going to happen in Venom that day, and he set himself to stop whatever it was that was going to happen. He went to guard Dash Bowman that day… the day when he died."

Wolf stopped himself suddenly, staring blankly up ahead in front of him. "I never saw him alive again. Somehow the Army knew where Leon was going, and they sent Falco to kill both him and Dash. I should have known it was Falco all along."

Robert grimaced in despair, unsurprised by the admission. "I've seen the Army go around silencing those who opposed them… but I know there has to be a different way. We can't go around forever silencing each other."

Wolf found enough strength to lift himself back off the floor and brushed off the dirt that was on his pants. "There's no time to argue about this right now. Marcus should be done in the next few minutes, and then we'll fork him over so that he can be turned in, and we can go on our way."

"Won't he give away our location?" asked Robert concerningly.

"They'll never believe him," replied Wolf defiantly. "Besides, even if they did, by the time they go around interrogating him, we'll have already gotten to Corneria by then, assuming the hyperdrive holds together. Now, once everything is all set, we'll go over to the surface to get more supplies and finish the job."

* * *

Marcus went over to the guidance systems, operating and humming along as planned, and couldn't help but notice its eerie presence. It wasn't just that the controls were able to take care of the most powerful weapons since the Lylat War, but it also held a sense of emptiness around it. He kept thinking viciously of all of his life's decisions he made to get him to this point, but kept shaking his head and dismissing his pessimism. This was supposed to free Venom, after all… he didn't want to give up now.

"Everything ready to go?" asked Michelle, interrupting Marcus' train of thought.

"Just about," said Marcus startlingly, almost feeling embarrassed at being lost in his own thoughts. "Just planning the next few days out, that's all."

"You don't need to  _plan_  anything, Marcus. You just need to do what you're told. And I'll tell you this – I've had an epiphany of sorts."

"Oh?" questioned Marcus. He gulped his air down, unsure what Michelle was going to say to him. He was confident of himself that all the systems were set up correctly.

"You told me the other day that you had… powers that most people didn't have. Now, when I first heard this, I thought you were talking some shit or something, and I do admit it sounded really funny. But you know, when we had that battle with Star Falco or whatever they call themselves these days, I did notice you being able to outgun those guys out there."

"Really?" Marcus was stunned, given that Michelle rarely paid compliments to other people.

"At first I thought you were some kind of psychic, which would have been completely ridiculous. I don't think you can actually read minds at all," snapped Michelle, returning Marcus to his concerned state before they spoke. "Wolf had told me that he was planning to let go of you soon, and soon afterward he was speaking to you about something, I guess. But you didn't get suspicious of anything."

"Let me go?" asked Marcus. "I know I've made mistakes, but I keep getting better each day!"

"I honestly don't think he thinks you're a bad pilot," surmised Michelle. "I think he sees you as a threat."

Marcus was speechless.

"When we were fighting with Star Falco," continued Michelle, "I noticed you kept anticipating each move that the other pilots were making. Whether it's just dumb luck or what, I don't know, but when you're all alone in the cockpit and by yourself, the focus seems to come into your mind, and everything seems to fall into place, one way or another."

Marcus was still baffled at Michelle's comments, scratching his head trying not to seem nervous. "What do you want me to do, then?"

"I'm only here to give you a warning. Wolf seems to think he can get some money off you. I think he's simply afraid of you. In any case, he doesn't give a damn about this mission. He's always been a mercenary, through and through, and up to now he's been playing around with this whole conspiracy act to play us along. But he's wanting to get away from us, one way or another. And all he sees is a big payday.

"Wolf's always said he had an urge to get rid of the Cornerians," growled Marcus. "It doesn't take a mind-reader or whatever to figure that out."

"I'm sure he would if he saw a payday at the end. But in the end, he's no different from the rest of the corrupt leaders, always working to prop him and his rotten son up."

Marcus restrained himself from chuckling, turning away from Michelle so as to not make direct eye contact with her, and leaned his arms against the wall. "How are we going to take him down, then?"

"I think you know the answer to that," snapped Michelle. "If you're really who you say you are, and you really want to take down Corneria and restore peace in the Lylat System, then do what your instincts tell you."

Michelle then went closer to Marcus that she was speaking directly into his ear. "If you focus hard enough," insisted Michelle, then you just might be able to take care of Wolf once and for all, and we could take down the bigwigs and save the destruction of Venom."

" _If_  I focus?" asked Marcus cautiously.

"I've seen people like you before," commented Michelle, "and they all end up the same way. They're too afraid and they don't take their chances when they're supposed to, and they usually end up dead or worse. But you have a valuable asset."

Marcus stopped Michelle before she could continue any further, and nearly grabbed her throat in disgust. "I'm not going to be used as a tool," barked Marcus.

Michelle swatted away Marcus' hard and slowly walked away from him. "Suit yourself, then. I know what my assets are, and I know what to do with them. Whether you succeed or not is of no concern to me. The question is, do you want to succeed or not?" Michelle walked out of the guidance room, leaving Marcus just the same as before she walked in, but much more incensed.

" _Dammit, I hate it when people insinuate me like that_ ," Marcus growled to himself. " _But does she have a point? Is Wolf really that crazy to sell me out like that?_ "

Marcus paced around the guidance room, angry and bitter at his situation. But he came to a decision.

"Whatever's going on around here," said Marcus quietly to himself, "I better see for myself." He left the guidance room, making sure to grab his blaster with him, just in case.

Marcus didn't have to walk far to find Wolf, heading to the guidance room himself, and judging from Wolf's unsurprised look when the two met Marcus could bet that they were both looking for each other. His stomach churned as he stared at Wolf, trying to figure out what he was going to do with him next.

"Need me right now?" Wolf interrupted.

Marcus was distracted in his own thoughts, and quickly snapped himself back into reality. "No, not immediately," he replied. "The guidance systems you wanted me to set up are online now."

"Perfect," responded Wolf, pulling out a communicator out of his own pocket. "Unfortunately, Star Falco just managed to find themselves out of prison. It's a shame, really, because I was hoping the Republican Army would be convinced to let the poor guy rot in there."

In an attempt to try to confirm his suspicions, Marcus made a suggestion to try and see what Wolf's pure intentions were. "Bet he'll get a good bounty, won't he?" Marcus jokingly asked.

"You read my mind," replied Wolf. "That's exactly what I had in mind. But we have our priorities right now. I need you for just one more thing in the bunker, and then we can all go into the surface and collect our weapons."

"Sounds good," answered Marcus without hesitation, responding to his order. There was nothing he could do at this point except obey to his leader. Nothing Wolf said was suspicious, and nothing really raised a red flag with him at any point.

" _What did Michelle mean by 'If I focus hard enough?"_ Marcus thought to himself. As far as he was aware, he wasn't able to read direct thoughts of people, but only how they felt. And Wolf was the hardest person to read on the Star Wolf team, because he already appeared gruff and reserved, even at the happiest of times.

The two of them went over to the radar room. Marcus could tell that Robert had just been there recently, as he left all his tools all over the floor. He hated it, and wished Robert wasn't so careless with his equipment. He kicked away one of the wire cutters lying down on the ground in disgust, but accidentally thunked it in Wolf's direction. Wolf didn't care at all what flung his way, simply stepping over the wire cutter and barely paying any attention to it.

"Right," explained Wolf, "there's a satellite that transmits the Republic's main television feed here. When we get a powerful enough signal to hijack it, we'll be able to transmit our own signal all over the Lylat System. We've already done our own checks beforehand, got the message taped beforehand, and everything seems to be under control for now." Wolf then turned to Marcus. "It should be about noon where the biggest population lives around Corneria. That should give us a big enough audience, wouldn't you think?"

"Sure would," answered Marcus.

"You know how to make this thing work?" asked Wolf.

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "Well, sure," he replied, "but I thought you knew these systems."

"Just don't want there to be any fuckups," growled Wolf, giving insistence with his low tone of voice.

"No worries," jumped Marcus, tensing his muscles in an attempt to deal with the sudden shift of mood. "I'll get right on it."

Marcus started typing away on the radar scanner, finding the satellite that Wolf mentioned and zoomed in to target it and hijack its transmissions. He first caught a glimpse of the broadcast being displayed on the program right now. As usual, it was the usual amount of government propaganda they liked to spew out on a regular basis.

"You believe in any of this crap?" Marcus asked Wolf, simply to break the silence in the room.

"Of course not," Wolf barked, "why do you ask? I keep explaining to you about this. Don't you ever listen?"

Marcus turned back around to face the console, placed his hands on there and went into deep thought, trying to intentionally pry into the Wolf's mind. Marcus kept working his head in every way he could, using every last bit of his strength to get inside the mind and let all of his instincts that kept telling him to stop to fly out of his head, and stiffened every muscle to put all of his energy into reading Wolf's mind.

" _It's now or never,_ " Marcus thought to himself.  _"If I can't figure out what's going on now, I never will. If I'm going to figure out how to read minds like my mother, I'll have to figure this out the hard way."_

Wolf was quietly sitting in the back, reviewing the tactical information in and around Macbeth. He was studying the information intently, out of sight from Marcus. He noticed Marcus standing in front of the console, not doing anything, and instantly got suspicious. Wolf bitterly put down his tactics device and walked towards Marcus, with his eyebrow raised high in contempt.

"What's happened, Marcus?" Wolf asked, not wanting to startle Marcus again like he usually does. Marcus didn't immediately respond, so he went closer to him. "Marcus? You there?"

Marcus wasn't paying attention to Wolf. Instead, he was thinking harder than ever, using every last muscle to force his powers into good use.

"Marcus?" Wolf was now shouting in the otherwise hollow room. "Answer to me! What are you doing?"

"…wha?" Marcus snapped out of his trance, confused as to what was going on around him. "Sorry, Wolf…" Marcus felt too embarrassed to offer an explanation.

"You good in there?" asked Wolf in a bit of a huff.

"Yeah..." Marcus slumped down on the console. "Sorry about that."

"Just get back to work," Wolf grunted."

" _Damn_ ," Marcus thought to himself. " _It didn't work_." He grumbled and went right back to the main console, still in a bit of a huff. He could notice Wolf keying away in the background, waiting for the work to be done. Marcus was just about to get right back to work again, when he heard a strange voice coming from inside his head. It certainly wasn't his own, since it was much more gruff and older than his own mind. Marcus shook his head initially and dismissed this, trying not to believe that he wasn't going completely crazy. But the voice persisted, up to the point where Marcus couldn't ignore it any longer.

At first, the voice was very garbled and incoherent, making the words very tough to make out. Marcus kept going back and forth between keying away at the console and shifting his attention back to the voices in his head, pounding Marcus' head from the inside out.

Marcus then started to recognize the voice all of a sudden. That voice was someone he knew, someone that was around him on a daily basis, someone that Marcus knew he had suspicions about.

Soon enough, he could hear some thoughts inside the man's mind: " _Figure out a way to get rid of this guy before he goes completely crazy_." " _We'll be through with him soon enough_." " _We'll be able to get a decent bounty out of him_."

It confirmed what Marcus suspected all along - it was Wolf. There was no doubt now in his mind.

" _Make sure he doesn't know what's going on_ ," Marcus heard Wolf thinking to himself.

Wolf noticed Marcus looking back seeing what was going on behind him, and Marcus quickly turned his head back around and kept working hastily away, multitasking his way through setting up the radar as well as keeping an eye on Wolf, just in case he planned to do something behind his back. Wolf didn't really pay much attention to Marcus, though, as he kept reviewing the tactical information and thinking mindlessly about other things, like what to eat for dinner later in the day and what not. Wolf's mind seemed strangely preoccupied heading up to the next attack on Corneria.

Soon enough, Marcus had set up all the information required on the radar, and put the system online.

"Everything seems to be all set now," confirmed Marcus.

"Good work," Wolf replied, finding an excuse to stand up and leave his tactical information behind. He grabbed a data drive and sticked it into the console, then uploaded a prerecorded message to get send across.

"This was something Robert and I whipped up in a few minutes," chuckled Wolf. "I find it kinda cute. The rest of the Lylat System shouldn't find it funny, though." When he turned on the radar system and tracked down the Republican satellite and intercepted the signal, then started the video message and sat back, marveling at his work.

"I'd take a good look at this," said Wolf, putting up his feet. "I'm quite proud of this. You should think so, too."

In the video, there was Wolf, plain as day, but he was obviously given a mask of some sort to cover his face. The video was also choppy and the audio was distorted as well, probably from the Republic trying to counteract their signal with one of their own.

"Good afternoon," started Wolf in the video, "or whatever time it is in Corneria. You've probably seen us in that little stunt we did on Venom. I hope you enjoyed that little... excitement of it all. I know what you're all thinking, you're wondering what we did with all that money that we took. Well, we got all the bombs in the universe capable of taking down the entire Republican Army if we wanted to. I doubt you're very interested in that."

"Our demands are fairly simple," continued Wolf. "Bring Dash Bowman to justice by handing us over the killer, Falco Lombardi, and free Venom from the grasps of the Republican Army. Give us the opportunity to make ourselves free again, and not as a servant to Corneria. Failing that, and you risk having your entire empire fall to pieces. I'm giving you this one opportunity to save whatever you have left of your pathetic government. Use one of your television stations to contact us. Your channels are forced everywhere in the Lylat System, so we'll see it whether we like to or not. Tell us where Lombardi is, and we'll meet and talk. You have 72 hours. The choice is yours."

* * *

It was finally happening. Duncan and Michelle had conveniently ran off to repair the Amethyst which had been damaged in the ensuing battles in the weeks prior, and Marcus was left all alone with Robert and Wolf again. After finding out Wolf's true intentions, Marcus grew increasingly worried. He didn't want to get immediately caught by Wolf, but Marcus didn't want to get caught off guard either. In a sense, Marcus was simply looking for a smoking gun. Something that everyone could tell from a mile away that he was being hunted down and chased after to be turned over to the authorities.

It was an interesting dilemma, to say the least. Marcus figured that if he told anyone that he "heard voices that told him Wolf was out to get him," he'd be thrown into the loony bin in an instant. Marcus didn't know if it was his Cerinian genes that was listening into Wolf's mind, or that he was actually going crazy. Marcus tried to get his mind active again, but he didn't have enough time to think about that. Wolf had gotten Marcus running around doing all kinds of work - setting up the guidance systems, infiltrating the Republican satellite, arming the weapons in the base - the list went on. Marcus was simply overwhelmed with the amount of things he had planned in front of him.

To tell the truth, Marcus liked this kind of work. For the first time in a long time, Marcus felt like he was actually important for a change. He really felt like he was a part of something special, specifically, the fall of the Republican Army. He really felt that, deep inside his own heart. Marcus wanted to see the chaotic empire that chewed him up and spat him out be gone for good. He wasn't interested in personal gain much like Wolf was. He wanted Venom to rise from the ashes again. Most of all, he really wanted the rest of his life to happen, just like everyone else - his parents, his friends, his colleagues and everyone else around - just like everyone else said it would.

Still, Marcus went on, frantically setting up everything under the sun while trying to solve the personal dilemma inside his head, away from the prying eyes of the public, and especially Wolf. There wasn't any time to think about the future. For Marcus, the future was about to happen right in front of him.

Robert soon appeared in the same room Marcus was in. He was just as focused as Marcus was, busy trying to do the same work they had been given all this time. Marcus tried to get Robert to speak to him for a minute, but Robert was too focused to take his eyes off the wiring inside the room, which had been scattered and stretched all over the place. Each time Marcus would try to say something, he would be interrupted by his own conscience telling him not to betray Robert. Soon enough, Marcus had to give up and go back to his job. It was the only thing he could do without going into a mental breakdown.

Day turned into night - not that it mattered, since there were hardly any windows to look out inside the base - and Marcus was finished up for the day. It was late into the evening, and Marcus had just about put in 16 hours' worth of work into setting up the base for Star Wolf. Exhausted, Marcus could only get his hands on a couple of beers to choke down. But there wasn't even another person to go and share it with, or anything else around him, for that matter, to surround him and give the feeling he was with somebody else. And that was completely fine with him. All he wanted tonight was to down the beers and forget about life for a while.

Marcus twisted open the bottle and instantly drank about a third of the cold, dark, fluid down, and lied down flat on the bed, closing his eyes and letting the beer consume him from the inside out. Marcus didn't say anything at all, just simply relieved that he was finally done for the day.

He could hear his communicator buzzing inside his drawer, but Marcus ignored it as best as he could. It didn't matter who it was that was trying to reach him, even if it was his parents trying to get in touch. He wasn't in any condition to talk to them, anyways. He could barely think straight as he kept drinking the beer and staring blankly into the ceiling. It made him realize that he hadn't seen his parents since he returned to Papetoon on shore leave during the semester break a few months ago when he was still in the Academy. It made his head spin thinking about how much he'd traveled since he left.

"Corneria... Zoness... Venom... Macbeth..." At this point, Marcus was delirious and his mind wandered from subject to subject, slurring his words along the way. "So much crap going on..." The world was starting to spin around Marcus, giving him a tremendous migraine. His vision started to get blurry, and everything around him was hazy and fuzzy, each object indistinguishable from the other. Sweat started to pour out of his forehead, and it finally occurred to Marcus that something was completely wrong with his beer.

"Dammit," he slurred, "this stuff is juiced…"

Marcus stumbled his way out of the bed and trampled as far as he could to the bathroom. Inside, he nearly smashed his face on the sink as he slipped on the wet floor and struggled to get back on his feet again. Once he did that, he tried to open the cabinet over the sink, but managed to smash the mirror in front of it in the process. Marcus could hear some shattering, but he couldn't care where the glass fell or how badly his hands were cut. He kept searching like crazy for what he needed.

Eventually, after an agonizing minute, Marcus found what he thought was the nozzle that would neutralize any poison inside his body, and immediately injected it into his arm, but didn't feel anything. He tried injecting the object again and again, only to realize that he was holding an aerosol can and not the antidote.

"Ah, shit," Marcus slurred, dropping the aerosol can in disgust. He tried opening his eyes as wide as he could, but found it impossible to keep his eyes open and find his way through all the crap inside the cabinet. Eventually, his vision started going dark around the borders, and Marcus eventually started to lose his balance. He stumbled his way around the bathroom before losing his footing and making his way down to the hard floor… only for him to be lying face up inside a compressed, compact area.

Staring up as far as he could inside the compartment, Marcus could hear himself breathing heavily and shivering, still inside the same t-shirt and pants he was wearing while trying to fall asleep before he fell in the bathroom. But the stranger part was that he didn't recall hitting the ground at all, but there was nothing around him now, not even a drop of water.

Marcus then decided it was time to figure out where he was, so he attempted to stand up. His head then bumped the roof of the compartment, and immediately his head was now throbbing immensely in pain. Marcus then tried to bring his hand around his forehead to check how big the bump was, but couldn't do that as well, finding his hands tied behind his back. Marcus squirmed around the compartment in a vain attempt to break free, but it was no use. Deflated, Marcus lied back down on the ground, with his head throbbing harder with each minute.

There was a strange rushing sound he could hear underneath, and it wasn't until the whole area took a bump, sending him into the roof, that he realized that he was riding inside a vehicle of some sort, but it was anyone's guess as to where it was going.

Figuring that there wasn't any point in trying to wrestle his way out of this mess, Marcus laid back down as comfortably as he could - a difficult feat, considering that his hands were firmly tied and his hands kept resting on top of his back. Marcus waited impatiently as the vehicle kept rolling around the roads, giving no end of pain. Then the vehicle stopped. It gave Marcus an uneasy feeling, knowing that whoever it was that kidnapped him had arrived to where they wanted to go.

Marcus closed his eyes when the hood of the vehicle opened up, if only to rest his eyes and play dead to those who were opening up. There wasn't any light shining into his eyes, indicating that it was nighttime, except for a flashlight that someone had lazily kept nearby, flashing briefly into his eyes before pointing into another direction again. Two crooks grabbed his legs and arms to lift him up, and laid him down on the ground face down, irritating Marcus since he was trying his best not to cough up any dirt that was the ground. Marcus heard a slam of a door, and nearly looked up in reaction to see who it was, but kept his muscles from turning to the direction of the noise. The person who closed the door stepped forward, inching closer to Marcus.

"He should be knocked cold by now," stated the man in a familiar voice. His accent was distinctive and unmistakable. "Once he's turned over I'll expect the payment within a few hours."

"Good," replied a sinister, unfamiliar voice in the opposite direction. "We'll bring 'em into the authorities as soon as possible. You'll get yer payment soon enough."

Marcus was grabbed by the legs and arms again, this time by slimier hands and with less of a grip, being very careless when carrying him around. The thugs swung Marcus around and dropped him into their car hard enough to make Marcus grunt in pain. There was a brief silence around Marcus, as the thugs wondered where the noise came from.

"You hear somethin'?"

"I thought I did, too. You think this guy's trying to pull a trick on us?"

"I dunno, let's check."

Marcus pretended to play dead again, but he was turned face up by the thugs and one of his eyes was opened up by the thugs again. Marcus saw the thug face to face, and noticed his features to refer to later - a face of a pig, a huge snout, small ears tucked behind his head, a couple of warts around his face, and a scowl that could send someone into next week.

"He's certainly ain't dead, that's fer sure," said the thug to his friend. "The Republic pays more fer those who can still spill a secret." The thug pushed Marcus aside without hesitation and slammed the trunk shut, taking away the moonlight away once again.

The trunk he was in now was much more dirtier than the one before, with dirt and tools scatted all over the place. The smell was also unbearably bad, as if someone had taken an actual dump in there. Marcus tried to lay down on his side again but poked a sharp blade spread out on the floor. Marcus strained himself and just barely grabbed the blade in his hands before the thugs got inside the car and spun it around and sped off from wherever they were, driving much more recklessly than Wolf.

He could hear the thugs chortling their asses off inside as Marcus tried to cut off the ropes behind his back with the thin blade, as the vehicle kept swerving in one direction after another. The blade was edged on both sides, and Marcus kept having his hands poked out by the blade as the vehicle tossed and turned with each passing minute. But he could feel the ropes getting looser and looser with each minute, and one more turn of the vehicle finally gave Marcus enough momentum to break the ropes loose and get his hands free.

As he kept struggling with the ropes around his legs, Marcus kept rolling over as the vehicle kept swinging and swaying from side to side. He'd hang on for dear life if he had been given the chance. Eventually, though, the vehicle screeched to a halt and Marcus was thrown forward into the front of the trunk. The thud gave Marcus another tremendous headache, piercing his head as he squirmed his way against the top of the trunk to sit upright on his knees as much as he could, freeing his hands from the ground. He kept pulling at the ropes, slowly but surely feeling the tight bonds slowly breaking free...

The thugs opened up the trunk to find Marcus upright and struggling with the ropes. "We must eff woken 'em up, eh?" the thug chuckled. "Come on, ya little critter, git out an' foller me."

Marcus didn't initially respond, so the thug swung his tied legs around and dragged him out of the trunk. Once again, Marcus groaned in pain as he hit the dirt in the dark of the night in the middle of nowhere.

"Don't you think I can move to where you want easier without being tied up at the legs?" asked Marcus.

"Don't go round thinkin' we never herd that joke before," chuckled the thug, grabbing Marcus by the arm and bringing him upright onto his feet. "Then again, maybe I could work somethin' out for ya," the thug replied, giving a big grin. The thug walked behind Marcus towards the back seat of the vehicle and grabbed a large, jagged blade out of the vehicle. Marcus was able to turn his body around to face the thug, seeing the moonlight shine off the blade.

The thug walked up to Marcus and knelt down, lifting up Marcus' pant leg. Before the thug could do anything, Marcus brought the rope around his hands and wrapped it around the thugs' neck. The thug dropped the blade and wrestled around, struggling to break free, but Marcus hung onto the rope for dear life. The other thug noticed the commotion and jumped out of the vehicle to stop Marcus, but Marcus threw the thug he was dealing with right at him, sending both of them to the ground.

In an instant, Marcus picked up the blade the thug dropped off from the ground and quickly undid the ropes around his legs. The thugs then pulled out some more blades of their own, but Marcus was able to stab the first one in the right shoulder and the second one in the stomach in quick succession. The second thug managed to knock out the blade from Marcus' hand, and grappled with Marcus even though he was bleeding profusely from his abdomen. Marcus was able to land a quick punch to the thug's face, sending him knocking down to the ground.

Marcus breathed heavily as he searched around for the blade that got knocked out of his hand, and noticed the first thug dragging his body towards the blade. Marcus ran over to the thug and stepped on his arm, sticking out and reaching towards the blade. As the thug was screaming away in agony, Marcus gave the thug one last kick in the head, and the cries were quickly silenced. He picked up the blade and went towards the vehicle, with the keys still inside ready for anyone to drive away. Marcus looked inside and searched frantically for any clue as to where his whereabouts might be, and found a communicator lying idly in the passenger seat. However, it was password protected by the thugs, so Marcus threw the communicator back, not at the least surprised that the thugs were smarter than they appeared.

What caught Marcus' eye, however, was the GPS that lay in the middle of the dashboard of the vehicle. Marcus turned it on and not only found where he was, but also was able to get directions to where Wolf met with the thugs earlier. It was a short distance from where he figured the Star Wolf base was located. Marcus turned on the vehicle and drove off immediately, leaving the two thugs alone in the dust.

Once Marcus got near the Star Wolf base, Marcus stopped the vehicle briefly and searched high and low for any more weapons inside the vehicle, given that he didn't have any of his own when he was taken into the middle of nowhere in Macbeth, minus the blade the thugs supplied for him. He found scattered across the back seat of the vehicle a couple of grenades, but nothing more.

"It'll have to do," groaned Marcus. He grimly grabbed the grenades from the vehicle and drove towards the alleyway which contained the secret base. Marcus made sure to park the vehicle away from the base entrance, so as to not arise suspicion from anyone around the area. He parked the vehicle on the street a couple of blocks away from the alleyway, threw on a sweater discarded in the back seat by the thugs, and walked his way towards the secret base, blending into the crowd as much as he could.

Two blocks later, Marcus arrived at the alleyway, having not been spotted by anyone in sight. He turned and looked carefully multiple times around him to make sure nobody was looking right at him, until finally ducking into the alleyway and heading into the secret entrance. It then dawned on Marcus that the entrance was locked by a keypad passcode, and he had no idea what that passcode was.

Marcus knew that trying various amounts of passcodes numerous times would end up alerting those inside the base that he was trying to break in. So he hatched another plan. He noticed a homeless man sleeping in the alleyway further downwards, and walked over to the guy and woke the guy up.

The homeless man swatted away at Marcus, nearly taking his nose off as a result.

"Jeez," thought Marcus to himself, "guess I'm not any good at speaking to the homeless."

The homeless man soon opened up his eyes in disgust. "The hell do you want?' the man groaned.

"A favour," replied Marcus, sternly.

The homeless man glared back at Marcus. "Whatever for?' he grunted.

"Under that grate," explained Marcus, "there's a passcode that needs to be typed into. Inside there's a shelter that can be all yours if you get the passcode right."

"Yeah, right," sighed the homeless man, as he brought his coat back over his grizzly face.

"You think I'm kidding around?" whispered Marcus, walking over towards the grate. He pulled the grate off and showed the keypad to the homeless man, proving his worth.

The homeless man slowly got up from the cold, hard, ground and slumped over to the keypad. "Hey, what have I got to lose?' he growled.

"Exactly," replied Marcus.

The homeless man dutifully typed away at the keypad, aimlessly trying to figure out the code to get inside. He tried all sorts of numbers, letters, words, anything he could think of, but nothing would let him in. He continued like this for five minutes.

"You sure there's something inside there?" asked the homeless man in a disinterested manner.

"I'm sure," replied Marcus. "I've seen someone go inside myself."

The homeless man returned to the keypad when Marcus heard some noises coming from inside the secret base. "I think I hear something in there," commented Marcus, "you must be getting close!"

"Are you just jerking around with me now?" shouted the homeless man. Suddenly the door opened up and a blaster poked outside the opening of the door; the homeless man's face turned white and pale as the barrel of the gun pointed straight at him. Marcus grabbed the blaster out of the person's hand and dragged them out of the door and outside into the alleyway.

"Hey," growled Michelle, "what the hell are you doing?"

Marcus' eyes instantly lit up. "Hey, it's you!"

Michelle looked up in curiosity at Marcus. "Gee, I thought you were gone…" she showed some excitement and emotion for the first time in Marcus' memory, but this fleeting moment quickly turned into her usual scowl. "Well, I'm happy you've found your way here. There isn't a moment to lose. Let's head inside at once."

"Right," answered Marcus.

"Hey," snarled the homeless man. "What about me?"

Michelle turned skeptically towards Marcus. "What's he yapping about?"

Marcus knew that the last thing he wanted to do was to tick off another homeless man, lest he try to spoil their location. "I didn't know who was watching guard around here, so I had him try to break into the keypad. The least we could do is bring him in from the cold… Wolf will probably want to know why the door was opened up in the first place."

"Good idea," replied Michelle. "You there," she pointed to the homeless man, "come inside."

The three of them went indoors, and once Michelle got behind the homeless man, she knocked him on the head with her blaster and knocked him unconscious.

"There," said Michelle, exhaling her breath. "That'll take care of him. You might need this," she continued, handing over the blaster to Marcus.

"Thanks," smiled Marcus.

"Now, Wolf is inside the guidance room, doing god knows what in there with his brat. Duncan is in his room, sleeping away, but he's on our side, so we don't need to worry about him. We just need to worry about Wolf."

"I know how to take care of him," declared Marcus.

"Good," replied Michelle, giving a small smirk.

Marcus then made his way over to the command room moving ahead of Michelle coming with him, not wasting any more time than he had to. Before he entered into the room, however, he brought out his blaster, making sure he had it on its highest setting, and put it back inside his pocket in a way that it would be easy to grab out of if needed, but out of plain sight from Wolf.

"You ready?" asked Michelle intently.

"Always," responded Marcus.

The door to the command room slid open, and Wolf was seen leaning over the console, staring into the controls with no purpose whatsoever. He didn't look up to the sounds of the doors opening up, not at all concerned over who would enter.

"You start first," whispered Michelle as she ordered Marcus. "You'll be able to start things off, and if things go awry, then I'll jump in. I won't be far."

Marcus nodded in agreement, and walked steadily over to Wolf. He stopped about a few feet away from Wolf, within close enough range of each other. Marcus' breathing started to hasten and his muscles started to tense up.

 _"Shit,"_  Marcus said to himself.  _"Don't back down now..."_

Wolf felt a presence around him and finally took his hands off the console and turned around to face Marcus. If Marcus didn't know any better, Wolf looked rather dazed and nervous when he stared at Marcus, lost in his own thoughts. It threw him off a bit, since he'd never seen Wolf in that way before.

"I've just realized something," commented Wolf. "This is the first time in a long time that there's been a real war in this system..." he looked away from Marcus and cracked a wry smile. "I've waited a long time for this."

"So have I," replied Marcus.

"I know it sounds cliche, but all these years," continued Wolf, "I've prepared endlessly to take down Corneria... I've never forgiven them for what they did to my family..." Wolf started clenching his fist and releasing it. "Things have never been the same for me. My only hope now is that it will be like that for millions of people."

Wolf started walking around, scanning the command room and turning his head quite frequently. "Ever get the feeling... that you're being watched?" asked Wolf, changing his monologue-like tone to his more usual self.

Marcus pretended to scan the room with him to keep Wolf distracted. "The thought never crossed my mind," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

"It seems odd to me that you, of all people, would suddenly barge into this room without asking for orders or giving me reports." Wolf went back to the console and typed away at it for a couple of seconds, and Marcus suddenly heard some subtle whirring, as if something was closing up. Marcus caught one of the cameras at the back wall closing up and shutting down, and Marcus knew what had happened.

"Great," Marcus cussed quietly under his breath.

Wolf let out a light chuckle. "It's amazing, really, how stupid you really think I am. Having one of my teammates work something out to get rid of me? Hilarious. I've had someone try that with me a couple of times already. I know all of their tricks. Now anyone bothering to look into the security cameras won't have a clue what's going on, and I can do whatever I want."

Marcus' blood started to boil over. "You hypocrite!" he barked. "You think you can lead us all here, and then dump us when you don't need us anymore?"

"That's where you're mistaken," Wolf replied, defiantly turning his back on Marcus. "Because after all, people are still looking for me, believe it or not, and anytime I go outside I stick my neck on the line. But I needed to create a distraction for the Republic to get to their database, and I needed some backup in case some punks like the guys Falco recruited decided to attack. And that was good and all, no doubt about that. It's not like I hired some idiots at the helm. But I also needed somebody to pin the blame on for the distractions so that the missiles can be launched to Corneria without delay."

The only thing Marcus felt like doing at the moment was punching his hand right through the wall. "I trusted you, Wolf."

"Trust?" Wolf snapped back. "What is trust? All the people out there in the world all have their own hidden secrets. I've got some, you've got some... Michelle's got some too, if you look hard enough. The point is that nobody can be trusted. Especially a McCloud like you."

That remark was enough for Marcus to move his arm so that he could draw out his blaster and end this charade once and for all. But Wolf did the same thing, stopping Marcus in his tracks.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," insisted Wolf. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Don't think you're the first one to have ever crossed my path one too many times before."

The two were standing a few feet away from each other, facing directly at each other. They were both staring at each other directly in the eyes, not letting themselves get distracted in any way. They stood there motionless, not wanting to be the one who moved first. They both stood there as still as they could, for one motion in any direction could cause the other guy to shoot them down.

Inside, Marcus' mind was stirring, going through each motion of firing the blaster. It came from back home in Papetoon, when his father, of all people, taught him how to fire a blaster not long before he left for the Academy. The directions were very simple: Firm grip on the handle, switch the safety off, look directly where you want to shoot, hold tight and fire, and follow-through the shot. It can also be simplified in easier terms as well. Handle, switch, look, fire, follow-through. His father knew deep down that he'd have someone staring him down between life and death, even before he went to the Academy. It was the only thing he ever learned from his dad that was of any use.

In any case, it was inevitable. When your father is a living legend in some areas, there's a target on the back of your head as soon as you're born.

So it was not a surprise, in a way, seeing death staring down his throat. But he kept going through the motions in his head, not wanting to end up dead. Handle, switch, look, fire, follow-through. Wolf still hadn't moved an inch from his position. It was so still inside the command room that Marcus could hear the sound of the vents spinning above him. Nothing but the sounds of machines around him. It wasn't quite like home, but it would have to do. Marcus imagined the fans were the sounds of the wind blowing in the humid desert air, back on the farm in Papetoon, where he was not staring at death itself, but at a soda can placed on top of a fence...

This would be his one chance to prove his worth. If this was it, then so be it.

Marcus' breaths turned into slow, methodical, breaths, going in the nose and out of the mouth, very softly, very gently, so as to not disturb the silence in the air...

He had one second.

Handle, switch, look, fire, follow-through.

There was a loud bang. The soda can was knocked off the fence. And a father, having nervously uncovered the blaster from the basement cellar, anxiously motioned to get the blaster back, for his teaching was already done. It was born with him, whether he wanted to or not. Natural survival instinct, as they call it.

Marcus' heart was pounding, and he quickly looked on the floor, awaiting the inevitable. This seemed like the end, for now.

But there was no blood. The floor underneath him was clean. That left only one other outcome.

He looked back at Wolf, and saw Wolf's blaster clang right to the ground. His body fell back and slumped on the console of the command room, and everything around it was painted a familiar colour of crimson red. Then he stared right into Wolf's eyes, gazing at the last light it would see, as he couldn't help notice his mouth trembling in fear and panic, being an animal that had been mortally wounded.

Wolf's eyes fluctuated on and off, going back and forth between seeing his nemesis and tending to his pain.

"Damn you..." he grunted weakly.

Marcus could only step backwards away from Wolf, not wanting to get involved any further. Then, a door hissed open to his right. Marcus pointed his blaster right at the figure, but found no reason to shoot. The figure stepped out and froze in fear, staying put in his tracks.

For a moment, Marcus thought about shooting the figure down, as it gazed back and forth between Wolf and Marcus. But he figured that there was no reason to shoot a defenseless figure, armed with no blaster. Besides, he didn't want to add more to the mess he had already created. One dead body was bad enough.

In a flash, Marcus found the back door and ran off, just like he did with every problem in his life. All his life, he had been running away from all his problems, running away from the Academy, running away from the issues of the galaxy, running away from life itself at times.

One of these days he'd have to face his problems head on.

But back at the command room, Wolf lay there on the console, dying. His only son, having witnessed the horror first hand, was now about to bawl in front of him. Wolf could remember seeing the boy cry in front of him once before, when he was just a small child in his arms. It was the first time they laid eyes on each other. This time would be the last.

Wolf looked into his son's red eyes, not wanting to let go of life. Robert kneeled down right beside his father, not wanting to do the same.

"Dad..." Robert's mind blanked out, at a loss of what to say.

"Rob..." Wolf slowly moved his hand to Robert's face, pressing lightly against it and nearly wiping off the tears rolling down his face. His vision started to go blurry, and his mind was starting to fade. And he could only mutter out a few words out of his mouth.

"Promise... me... you'll kill that son of a bitch... my son..."

Wolf's hand slowly slid off Robert's face, dropping to the floor. In a panic, Robert held Wolf's head, and tried to bring some more life out of him. But it was no use.

Robert collapsed into his father, sobbing and shivering. For the first time in his life, Robert was truly and fully alone.


	26. Chapter 26

It wasn't long before Star Falco had to abandon their getaway ship from the Republic and land on Katina, a planet not to dissimilar to Corneria, but slightly warmer and with more spectacular sunsets. The colours that lit the sky at dusk made for a fascinating sight, but there wasn't much time to enjoy it. For now, all that mattered was getting to somewhere, fast - as the day was growing short and time was running out until imminent war was going to begin.

Clara couldn't help but feel completely hopeless. Everything that could go wrong did, in fact, go wrong. Even when the team was given a glimmer of hope escaping from prison, they ended up stuck deserted on a planet most of them had never been on, wandering to anything they could find in the faint hope of reaching Star Wolf. Clara could swear she was hallucinating, seeing a building in front of them, as the team wandered in the empty plains of Katina.

"Is that a base up ahead?" yelled Clara.

"Of course not," snapped Greg back. "You're just seeing things."

True to his word, the "thing" that Clara thought was the base was, in fact, nothing more than a factory.

"So much lost opportunity here..." Clara thought out loud to herself. "Ever since the gold mines dried up here, the only usefulness this planet had left is its proximity to Corneria. Only the Republic would want anything to do with this planet anymore."

As the team walked closer to the abandoned factory, Falco looked up to one of the towers and noticed an antenna planted on top. "Strange that an abandoned factory would still have their communications systems up and running in there... you would think that pirates would have taken that down and sold all the scrap metal and copper by now."

"You think someone's still in there using the factory?" asked Jenna curiously.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking," declared Falco. He found the main entrance of the factory, boarded up with wooden planks. Falco drew out his blaster and fired at the planks a number of times, but it didn't have much effect.

"Dang," he growled to himself. "The wood must be tougher than I thought."

The windows of the factory were all boarded up, too, preventing any light going through the cracks of the planks.

"If there's someone in there," continued Falco, "they obviously don't want us to know that."

"Got a grenade?" asked Greg to anyone who was listening.

"After we used them all at the prison?" exclaimed Jenna. "We were lucky to get away with the ones we had."

Clara noticed a strange smell coming from the building and tried to trace to where the smell was coming from. "Is it just me, or do I smell compressed gas and oil?"

"I thought that was just the general smell of the planet," replied Falco, "but now that you mention it…" Falco leaned over to the front of the entrance, being much more attentive of the smell. "It definitely does smell like something is leaking over there. Clearly whoever is in there didn't have time to inspect the damn place." Falco dug into his pockets and brought out his lighter. "Stand back, everyone. If I find even a small hole, it's probably where the gas is leaking out from…"

Falco scanned the walls to check for any kind of hole. There was a small hole near the seams of the brick wall, not far from where the entrance was. Falco lit up his lighter and dropped it near the hole, then ran back. As soon as the lighter came near the hole in the wall, a large flame lit up the back of the entrance and blew some of the planks off, while setting the rest of them on fire. Falco and Greg came to the entrance and kicked down the rest of the planks as best as they could, and let the smouldering flames die down as the team entered the supposedly "abandoned" factory.

As they went inside, the unmistakable raw egg smell of burnt gas could be smelt across the area. Greg and Jenna brought out their lights from their communicators as the four of them carefully walked around the darkened hallways. Soon they heard some footsteps in the distance and stopped in their tracks to listen where exactly they were coming from.

"What the hell's going on in there?" yelled the mysterious figure. Falco and Clara drew up their blasters as Jenna and Greg kept their lights up, hoping to see the figure for themselves.

The figure stepped closer and closer into view, and even before the guy could say another word, Clara fired her blaster at the guy, and he immediately dropped into the ground, shouting out in pain.

"Shit, Clara!" Falco yelled at her.

"Sorry," immediately replied Clara. "I didn't mean…"

"Will you stop apologizing for everything?" Falco snapped back. "Jeez, of all the…" Falco stopped himself before he got too carried away.

The ferret stumbled onto his feet, still visibly shaken but determined to make his way up to his feet on his own power. Falco lowered his blaster and walked towards the figure, but when the ferret tried to take out another blaster, Falco shot it right out of the guy's hands. The ferret nervously looked straight up at Falco as he leaned forward to pick up his blaster from the ground, but Falco once again pointed his blaster right at the ferret's head.

"Don't try to do anything, wise guy," Falco said to the ferret. "Just tell me what you're doing here in the middle of nowhere."

"Just getting some supplies and raw materials," replied the ferret. "You never know what you may find in here."

"With a blaster in hand and with all the windows and doors boarded up?" countered Falco.

The ferret was at a loss of words. "Hey, it's a tough neighbourhood…" shrugged the ferret.

Falco wasn't amused at the ferret's attempt at making a joke. "Listen, don't try to act funny around me. I don't care who you are, but whatever you're up to, speak up now, so that you don't end up in smoke like the gas leak you forgot to fix."

"What gas leak?" yelled the ferret. As he was about to argue, he got a closer look at Falco, and couldn't help but notice his face being very familiar…

"Wait…" the ferret spoke softly. "That's…"

Without hesitation, Falco whipped the ferret with his blaster, sending him unconscious to the floor.

"You think he recognized you?" asked Jenna.

"I wouldn't be surprised, they've got my face plastered all over the galaxy," snarled Falco, as he stepped down to search through the ferret's pockets. Inside was an identification card, marked with the guy's name and the group he was with at the time. "LRM… this mean anything to anyone?" asked Falco.

All the other team members shook their heads in reply.

"Well, I guess this might be worth something, I guess," said Falco, as he put the identification card in his pocket. Falco also noticed a light coming from the alleyway and peeked over to the general direction. "I bet that's where the rest of them are," said Falco.

In an instant, Falco and the rest of the team went inside the room, with a few other members wearing the same LRM vests sleeping in the area. Falco took a glass sitting on the table and threw it near one of the guy's feet, startling the whole room and waking them up.

"Alright," yelled Falco, "Hands up where I can see them."

The guy that Falco threw the glass at, a red feline, kicked away the glass shards and stood up, glaring straight at Falco. "Just who do you think you are?" he sneered.

"I was about to ask the same thing," replied Falco. "Last time I checked, this building was supposed to be abandoned."

"Well, you checked from the wrong place," snapped the guy back. "Anyway, don't go around trying to pull anything on us."

As the guy was saying this, one of the thugs was slowly trying to reach towards a bat he could swing at, but Jenna pulled out her blaster and shot the bat, splitting it in half. Jenna pointed her blaster at the guy Falco was talking to, and couldn't help but notice his face looked very familiar to someone she had heard about back when she was working in the Republican Army.

"LRM," Jenna quietly spoke to Falco, pointing the blaster at the guy simultaneously. "That's the Lylat Resistance Movement. And that's their leader, Adrian Connor."

Adrian overheard their quiet conversation, and slowly brought his hands down from the air. "And if I'm not mistaken, that's Falco Lombardi," Adrian said confidently, "the most wanted man in Lylat right now... If that isn't the definition of a coincidence then I don't know what is."

As Adrian reached out to get his blaster, Falco shot it right out of Adrian's hand. "I don't believe in coincidences," Falco arrogantly stated. "Only idiots believe in coincidences. Something tells me this place is more than a hideout for some punks."

"Even if it was," snapped Adrian, barely able to keep his breath, "we wouldn't be going around telling anyone. Especially you, you scumbag."

A few more thugs came into the room and started firing at the team, but Falco and the rest dived out of the way and fired straight back at the thugs. Adrian went to the back of the room camouflaged amidst the battle going on in their room, and tried to bring out a huge machine gun to use against the team, but Clara immediately jumped right on Adrian, seeing him out of the corner of her eye, and wrestled with Adrian, barely able to get the machine gun out of his hands. She then hit Adrian with the machine gun, sending blood all over the floor and disfiguring Adrian's face in the process. Soon enough, all the other thugs were dispatched one way or another.

Adrian then got away from Clara and went into the console to try to grab a radio to alert more people, but Jenna managed to shoot Adrian in the back, sending him to the ground.

"You're lucky it was set on stun," said Jenna as she pointed the blaster at Adrian's head. "Now tell us what you did on Fichina, and we might just let you and your cronies live."

Adrian slowly turned to his back and started to get up very slowly, with his hands lifted up in the air. "Alright, I'll do what you want, just stop beating the hell out of us..."

The radio then started to beep about a thousand times. Someone responded to Adrian's distress call, and Adrian stood up to his feet and glared right at Jenna. "Do you want me to answer that call or not?" he barked.

"See who it is first," responded Jenna.

Adrian picked up the radio and turned on the receiver. "Who's this?"

"This is Robert. Something happened on Macbeth, and I don't know where to go for backup."

"Can you explain what happened on the radio?" replied Adrian.

"I can't," sighed Robert, "It'll take too long to explain. Besides, it looks like the whole plan is starting to fall apart. We'll definitely need backup for sure."

"That voice," interrupted Clara. "I recognize that... when we got boarded near Zoness. That person on the distress call sounds the same as the guy that was with Marcus that night..."

"If that's Star Wolf we're talking about..." Jenna pointed her blaster straight at Adrian. "Then are you expected to get there immediately?"

Adrian didn't answer to Jenna, so Jenna shoved her blaster right at Adrian's face. "Answer me!" she growled.

"Back off!" Falco growled. Jenna drew her blaster away and Falco stepped forward near Adrian. "Alright, we'll make you a deal. If you're supposed to go to Macbeth, you can go there on one condition. Bring us there and show us where their base is. And don't tell anyone that we're with you."

"And if we refuse?" Adrian glared.

"Well, some of you just might end up dead," continued Falco, "or worse, turned over to the Army."

Adrian let out a hearty chuckle. "They have no authority here! Are you insane? They're the reason why we're in this mess in the first place! We're not afraid of them."

Falco looked around his team, and they all nodded at him back in confidence. "One thing I know about the Army is that they're not as stupid as you think they are. When they see you hanging around here operating this place, they won't hesitate to beat you up to a pulp. I know this from experience. So I'll give you the choice. Take us to Star Wolf, and I'll let you go on your merry way, or get turned over to the Republic, and face almost certain annihilation. You won't be killed, because you know too much about Star Wolf. But you'll be tortured so much that you'll wish you were killed. Besides, we have something you don't even have."

"And what's that?" asked Adrian.

"I at least know what we're going up against. We can't go through with this alone. The Republic is too big to be taken down by one small group. We need to band together, form together as one. We need more strength in numbers."

Adrian lit up his eyes in shock. "You're saying that we should join together?"

"It's the only way we're going to be able to take down the Republic once and for all. Sure, you could bring me in for cash, but I know how the Republic works. I know where exactly to take them down from the inside out."

Adrian started to ease up his muscles, as Jenna had brought down her blaster while Falco was talking to him. "Even if I could believe you, you're the most wanted man in all of Lylat. There's no way we can stay undercover for much longer."

"Don't make me make you the most wanted man in Lylat as well," threatened Falco.

"How?" Adrian scratched his head.

"It's all very simple. If the Republic finds me, then they'll find you, one way or another. Simple as that."

"Boss," interrupted one of the thugs, "this Falco guy is talking a lot of sense. If we turn him over, we're certain to be thrown in jail with him!"

Adrian threw his hands up in frustration. "You leave me with little choice. Head to our ship, and stay in the storage area. Don't try anything stupid.

As the rest of the LRM started to pack up onto their ship, Jenna managed to get Falco's attention, even for a brief moment.

"The LRM are dangerous to deal with..." Jenna glared. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"It's the only way we can get to Star Wolf without having the whole of Lylat tracking us down," explained Falco. "I don't like dealing with them as well, but we don't have any other options. If we're going to take down Star Wolf once and for all, we're going to have to get somebody else's help, one way or another. If they're serious about starting war with Corneria, it's best to stop it before it even begins. Besides, we don't have much time left before they start their attack on Corneria."

After the LRM got everything ready, the ship left Katina and headed straight towards Macbeth. They were going at a fast speed, and they would arrive there within a few hours.

Adrian searched the bridge of the ship to make sure nobody from Star Falco was listening in, and grabbed the receiver again.

"Robert? You still there?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," Robert sighed back. "What's up?"

"Just to let you know, we got Falco at the back of our ship with us. He nearly took us down but he insisted on going to Macbeth with us. If you want a big payday, we can hand him over to you as soon as we land. We can talk about splitting the pot later on when this mess is done and over with."

"You can't be serious," Robert said in disbelief. "There's another thing too... is anyone nearby?"

"No, I checked before I messaged you," replied Adrian.

"Marcus is going insane," admitted Robert. "He killed my father."

Adrian nearly dropped the receiver in shock, staring out into space.  _"Wolf's dead?"_ thought Adrian.  _"This might be the breakthrough we've been waiting for… Wolf never wanted to join forces with us against the Republic, but now…"_  Adrian stopped for a moment, recollecting his thoughts as his heart started to pound in anticipation. "I don't believe this," said Adrian into the receiver. Wolf was a visionary for Venom. I don't know why he would do that. Let's talk some more when we see each other."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you soon," Robert sighed.

"Take care, Robert," ended Adrian. "I'm sorry about your dad..."

"Thanks, Adrian."

"Take care." Adrian put down the receiver, exhaling as he sat down. "Maybe this Marcus kid isn't as bad as I thought he was. I should get in touch with Duncan after I get Falco's guys off my back."

* * *

It was a cold day on Macbeth, and rain was just about to fall down onto everyone on the planet. Adrian grumbled as he got out of his ship and jumped down to the ground. He really didn't want to be there, nor did he want to have one of the biggest criminals in all of the galaxy waiting in tow in his ship, but he didn't have time to think about it right now. All that was on his mind was finding Robert and figuring out what the hell happened to Wolf.

There were a few people wandering around a marketplace not far from the outskirts of the city center, all desolated and barren otherwise. All the people were disinterested in what they were doing, what they had gone there to do in the first place. Their clothes weren't exactly all in tatters, but they weren't in the best condition, either. It wasn't that Adrian was petty about clothes, but everyone looked like they had just gone through a dust storm - odd, considering there isn't a single desert in all of Macbeth.

"I find it hard to believe Star Wolf decided to hang out here," Adrian mumbled to himself. One of the bypassers looked over to figure out what he was saying, but Adrian quickly turned in the other direction away from the bypasser, trying not to attract any more attention. He stayed quiet and hunched over his hood while he walked towards the given coordinates from Robert.

Eventually, Adrian found a merchant selling prosthetics - which slightly amused Adrian, in a way. He knew that the old Star Wolf team had rumours that they used prosthetics to cut down on pilot weight, which was a strange rumour in itself. But he looked under the young looking man, looking down and almost gave the impression that he was either asleep or bored where he was. It was stranger still seeing Robert out in the open like this.

"Nice stand you got," chirped Adrian.

Robert looked up and glared right at Adrian. "What makes you say that?"

"The fact that it's got high quality goods," replied Adrian instinctively.

Robert pulled down his hood and stood up, facing directly at Adrian. "Meet me in the back," he told Adrian.

As the two walked together, Adrian stretched his neck, sore from sitting at the controls for a few hours. He was still grumbling about going over to Macbeth in the first place, but there wasn't anything much he could do now. Once the two were out of earshot from the general public, the two found a table and sat down across from each other.

"What's going on with Star Wolf, then?" demanded Adrian. "What the hell happened to Wolf?"

Adrian put his hands onto his face and sighed. "You met Marcus before, did you?"

"Yes, why?" Adrian scratched his head in confusion.

Robert glanced away from Adrian and looked towards the door, not wanting to make eye contact. "He's gone mad, completely mad... We were going to turn him over to the authorities... then Marcus killed him." Robert shuddered and knocked his head onto the table.

"Motherfucker..." Adrian shook his head. "Wolf was the whole reason why he was on the team in the first place. I don't know what the team's going to do now without him. A pilot of Wolf's ability shouldn't have been taken down that easily."

"Michelle took over the team," replied Robert. "She took over all the reinforcements, and now they're going to wage war on Corneria. But for what? The only reason why I went along with this plan in the first place was because of my dad. Now that he's gone, there's no reason to do this anymore."

Adrian leaned over to try to convince Robert otherwise, but he was interrupted before he could speak out.

"I've come to the realization," gasped Robert, short of breath. "What they're planning isn't a revolution. My dad wasn't interested in justice, he was interested in his own personal gain. But I went along with it, because I loved him. And Michelle isn't interested in justice, she's only interested in absolute power over everyone in the entire galaxy. She's a manipulative, psychopathic b-"

"Ok then…" interrupted Adrian. "Look, I know your dad meant a lot to you. Really, he meant a lot to me, too. But this has been a rough couple of weeks for both of us. I've got the biggest target in Lylat in my ship right now, and if the Republic finds out I've been harbouring him over here, then we're all pretty much dead. But I need you to do this one thing for us, then I can grieve with you."

"What's that?" demanded Robert.

"Find a way to get this bastard captured alive," growled Adrian. "If Falco is dead, he's worthless to the Republic - they want him skinned alive for the masses. If we can find a way to bring him to the Republic without getting caught ourselves, we'll be off the Republic's back, at least for a little while, and we stand a good chance being the biggest resistance force in the galaxy. Then we can continue what your father started - bringing down the Republic and freeing the whole galaxy, not just Venom - from their grasps. Your dad was on the right track, Robert. He may be gone, but we can go further than you father ever imagined!"

Robert wasn't entirely convinced, judging from his lack of enthusiasm. "Do you actually believe the propaganda we put out?"

"Of course, are you crazy?" Adrian snarled. "He killed Dash Bowman, right? And he helped blow up the bases on Venom, didn't he?"

"About the explosions on Venom..." Robert sighed. "Guess I don't need to keep this a secret anymore... Falco had nothing to do with that. That was just something Michelle put out to hide the trails and cover our tracks."

"So you mean that Falco wasn't on Venom at the time?"

"Yes."

"And that Star Wolf helped blow up Venom?"

"Yes."

Adrian was about to burst, furious with anger. "Man, blaming him for Bowman would have been good enough, why did they have to blame him for Venom, too?"

"That was so that his credibility could be damaged so that he  _could_  be blamed for Bowman," sighed Robert. "If we just said that he killed Bowman and nothing else, nobody would have believed us. But because we got the Republic convinced that he helped blow up Venom, convincing the population that he was the killer of Bowman made things a whole lot easier."

Adrian shook his head in disbelief. "People can be so stupid sometimes."

"That's what happens when people put too much trust in the government," said Robert. "And if I'm completely honest with you, I don't think he was responsible for killing Bowman, either."

"What makes you say that?" grumbled Adrian.

"Well, it's just that it was a secret that had been hidden for many years. For us to find it in some base on Titania with little security other than the planet itself was almost too easy. It feels kinda planned, in a way. Like it was planted in there on purpose." Robert sighed again. "I don't know, I just don't trust anything anymore, after what happened to my dad... what is a reliable source, anyway? Everything could be fake, for all I know."

Adrian dismissed those allegations quickly. "You're probably just still upset over your dad's death. It happened to me when I was a bit younger, just after I turned sixteen. But we have to find a way to go on."

"You're probably right about that." sighed Robert, "But Adrian, you have to admit, with everything going on these days, just about anything can be used for propaganda these days. People will believe just about anything."

Adrian chuckled. "You can say that again," he replied, patting Robert on the back. Then they both noticed someone in the back of the room, with a hood draped over his head.

"Who's that?" asked Robert.

Adrian knew who it was, but didn't reply immediately, not wanting to alarm Robert. "I don't know," he replied, "but I don't know how the hell he got in there."

"Maybe you should have checked for any trackers under your shoe," Falco said cockily, removing the hood from his head.

Adrian slowly reached into his pocket, trying to grab his blaster. But Robert quickly noticed Adrian, and realizing who it was under the hood, grabbed a stick nearby and as Adrian drew the blaster out of his pocket, Robert used the stick to hit the blaster out of Adrian's hand, and wrestled with him so that he wouldn't go back to retrieve it.

"What the hell are you doing?" screamed Adrian. Before he could argue any further, Falco used his own blaster to stun Adrian, sending him into the ground. He wasn't killed, but Adrian was in obvious pain, and stuck to the ground as he groaned in agony.

Falco wiped the sweat off his forehead with the blaster, and then put it back in his pocket. "Nice to know somebody you can actually depend on," he remarked. "Now, just who are you, anyways?"

"Who I am isn't important," Robert replied. "What matters is that I know where Star Wolf is, and how to take them down."

"You're willing to risk all of that?" Falco smiled.

"I've already learned my lesson dealing with Star Wolf," sighed Robert. "The hard way. I've got nothing left to lose now by doing what's right."

"We got LRM ships nearby," Falco explained. "All we need to do is go where the base is, and make our way over to where we need to go."

"LRM?" Robert didn't seem completely convinced.

"Yeah, we rode with the LRM over to Macbeth, with their ships and all. They have some stolen Republican ships, so that'll be the perfect cover."

"Sounds like a plan," replied Robert. "We haven't got much time to lose, the missiles start going towards Corneria within a couple of hours. We've got to get there, immediately!"


	27. Chapter 27

Robert had led Falco into the alleyway near the base, and already the two of them were nervous and uneasy throughout the whole time. The rain had intensified, and the clouds were becoming more and more intense as the day went along into night. The rest of the Star Falco team had gotten word of the location of the Star Wolf base and was making their way there, but Falco and Robert were getting there by foot, well before the rest of the team could attack in their ships.

"You sure we won't get hit accidentally by your other teammates?" asked Robert.

"I'm sure," replied Falco. "They'll do what they can to make sure I come out of here alive. I don't know what this team would do without me. They're really good, and they're really smart, but the only thing wrong with them is that they're a bit young. They don't know what it really takes to be a good pilot out there." Falco readied the bomb in his hands, ready to blast open the steel door of the base. "Besides, even if we stop Star Wolf somehow, I have a feeling this won't be the last time we'll have Venom and Corneria pitted against each other. For as long as they remain divided, they'll constantly be at odds with each other. That's my take, anyway."

Robert looked up to Falco, almost dumbfounded at what he heard. "Where have you been all my life? That's the first sensible thing I've heard from anyone in the past few years."

Falco chuckled. "Well, I have to admit, I have the strangest feeling I've been through this shit before. But what do I know? If I knew the answers to everything in the world, we wouldn't be trying to take down Star Wolf again, wouldn't we?"

Robert then stopped in his tracks, right next to the alley which led into the Star Wolf base. "This is where we went in," stated Robert. "Just go down here and find a miscoloured stone, and you'll be able to place the bomb nearby and make a hole in the wall.

Falco keyed around with the bomb for a few seconds. "You sure this thing will be strong enough to break through?"

"I'm sure," replied Robert. "The wall itself is very weak, it just needs to be hit at just the right spot. Place the bomb right below the miscoloured stone, and you'll be near where the ID scanner is."

Falco went into the alley and scanned for the stone, but couldn't spot it easily. "You sure there's one of a different colour in there?"

"Maybe if I showed you..." Robert went over and went over each stone, carefully analyzing it's colour. Then he suddenly froze for a second and ducked downwards.

"What's that?" barked Falco.

"That was the scanner," said Robert hurriedly. "They'll probably know that we're coming soon, since the scanner will track whose face it was in an instant. And I doubt I'm in good terms with them right now. Give me the bomb!"

Falco almost threw the bomb at Robert, drawing out his blaster right afterwards. Robert placed the bomb on the wall and waved to Falco. "Just set it off now!"

Falco keyed in the passcode to start off the bomb sequence, and ran in the opposite direction towards the street. "I set a shore fuse, get away from it, quick!"

The two ran into the street, and just as they entered into the open again, the bomb blew off and shook all the buildings around it, causing the townsfolk nearby to scramble and wonder what it was that set off.

"Well?" said Falco. "Guess we should let the rest of the team know." He took out his communicator and radioed in his position on the tracking device. Within a moment, three "borrowed" Republican cruisers could be seen rushing into the otherwise quiet Macbeth neighbourhood, causing more alarm in the area.

"Ready?" asked Falco.

"Ready," replied Robert, as he drew out his own blaster.

As the two waded through the rubble at the entrance of the base, they scanned the area to check how far the bomb had gotten through to the base. The first entrance was certainly blasted through, but the second one had only been dented inwards, and there wasn't an obvious weak spot inside.

"Dammit," uttered Falco under his breath. "I thought the bomb would be strong enough."

"We can simply bust the other door down," responded Robert. "It should be unhinged enough." As soon as he said this, Robert ran towards the door and knocked it down, revealing the base inside. "Told you," he said confidently.

"Don't get too cocky," Falco replied. "Just tell me where the command center is."

Before the two could get any further into the base, a dark figure drew out a machine gun and pointed it directly at Falco and Robert.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up around here," muttered Michelle. "Both of you."

Robert stood there in silence, not wanting to talk to Michelle any further. Falco still had his blaster in his hand, and he slowly drew it downwards, figuring the firepower was balanced against him.

"It doesn't matter what you do with me," scowled Michelle. "We've already sent some missiles down towards Corneria. We've got an entire army on its way to start the war again. Soon our mission will be complete."

Before Robert could respond in anger, a few thugs came from behind Michelle and quickly apprehended Robert and Falco, taking away their blasters and wrapping their hands behind their back.

"Take him to the ship," Michelle ordered, pointing to Robert. "We'll deal with him later. Meanwhile, I know just what to do with you..." she continued, glaring straight at Falco. But before she could continue on any further, the building started rumbling and shaking, nearly throwing Michelle off balance.

"The hell was that?" she yelled out.

"Reinforcements," replied Falco smugly.

Confused, Michelle brought up the diagnostic screen nearby to see outside the base and wonder what was going on around her. While Michelle was distracted, Falco managed to break free from the restraints and beat up the thugs around him, grabbing back his blaster in the process. Falco went over to Robert and untied his restraints, then Robert went and grabbed a blade from one of the thugs writhing in pain on the ground.

As Robert held up the knife forward towards Michelle, there was a sense of determination in his eyes, as if he knew the fate that was going to come against him. "I don't care what you're thinking of doing," he growled, "I'm going down with you."

"We'll see about that," Michelle scowled back. She drew out her blaster but Robert knocked it out of her hand, but Michelle responded with a swift uppercut at Robert's face. Then she drew out a blade of her own, and ran towards Robert as he was getting up from the ground. Robert managed to grab Michelle's hand as she thrusted it at him, and the two struggled with each other, gnashed teeth and all. Eventually, Robert let go of Michelle and pushed away from each other, while Falco stepped in and tried to fight Michelle, but Michelle kicked Falco in the abdomen, sending Falco into a wall as he slid into the ground.

"Wait for your turn," mocked Michelle.

Robert then went to beat up Michelle again, not hesitating to take advantage of her arrogance. Robert swiped furiously at Michelle with the blade, but she kept dodging each one.

As the two kept fighting below, Duncan had been dispatched to take down the pilots who were bombing the Star Wolf base. Clara, Jenna, and Greg were all battling in formation over the base, placing each strike as they had planned beforehand. But they noticed Duncan and five other ships cruising towards them, preparing themselves for battle. The three of the them were outnumbered two to one, and Duncan was the least of their worries.

"Looks like we got company!" Greg yelled out to his teammates. "Spread out and take them out!"

In an instant, Greg and Clara went off into different directions, while Jenna shot directly at the center of the enemy formation. Duncan sent a smart bomb in Jenna's direction, so she dived out of the way right before the bomb exploded in front of her. Clara noticed Jenna was getting out of the way, so she started firing lasers at the formation, immediately taking out one of the enemy ships. Soon, the formation broke off, and one of the ships went directly towards Clara. She barely had time to process her first downed ship as she chased away from the enemy ship. Meanwhile, Jenna had another couple of ships tailing her, but a loop over them was able to get Jenna behind the enemy ships, allowing her to shoot at them. One of the ships went down, while the second tailed off, presumably to take damage control. Meanwhile, Greg was battling with Duncan, and the two were evenly matched, mainly because the two were going at high speeds. The force of the G-forces pushing Greg's face against the back of the ship was enough to make his head spin.

Greg managed to get beside Duncan for a moment, enough to get Duncan to suddenly brake and shoot at Greg, but Greg looped around Duncan to dodge the attacks. Not impressed with this move, Duncan responded with another loop of his own, so Greg simply sped off before Duncan could shoot at him again.

Meanwhile, Clara was chasing down another enemy ship, but Jenna radioed to her in a panic. "I've got three ships behind me!" Jenna screamed.

Without hesitation, Clara pulled away from the ship she was trailing, and found Jenna on the radar. Then, she zoomed over and locked on to one of the ships following Jenna, then sent a charge shot over there. The ship Clara locked on to drifted away, while the other two took some splash damage from the shot, and had to back off.

Jenna smiled in relief and went and looped back towards the other two ships which were distracted, and took some shots against them, sending one to the ground, and the other in flames as it retreated into the distance.

"Thank you, Clara!" exclaimed Jenna. "There's just the two henchmen left remaining, as well as Duncan."

"Don't I know it!" yelled Greg, being chased by Duncan. Duncan was closing in on Greg, and Greg's shields were being damaged with each hit Duncan was taking on Greg's ship. With the henchmen quickly closing in, Greg tried to loop around Duncan and the rest of the followers behind him, but Duncan quickly responded to his moves, and followed right behind him. Greg then tried to speed away, but Duncan was still repeating every move that Greg was doing, shooting back at Greg whenever he could.

Jenna and Clara immediately rushed over to where the dogfight was going on between Greg and the three enemies, and the two henchmen tailed off from Greg and went towards the two women. As they went towards the two firing all their lasers, Clara nearly collided with one of the henchmen, startling her in the moment. After drawing a blank for a few seconds, Clara shook her head and checked the radar to see where the enemies went. She found out when her shields started to take in shots from behind. Jenna tried to shoot at one of the enemies behind Clara, but the enemy fighter kept barrel rolling to deflect the shots. Inspired, Clara started doing the same to deflect the enemy's shots. After doing this for a minute, Clara had to balance herself to regain orientation when she nearly lost control of the ship, and pulled up just in time to avoid hitting the ground at full speed, letting out a shriek in the process.

"That wasn't very good..." Clara groaned to herself. But she noticed one of the enemies not far from her current position, so she swung her ship back around and took out the enemy's wings, sending them down to the ground.

"One enemy fighter left to go!" Clara proudly declared.

"Plus this asshole," Greg replied, referring to Duncan, closing in behind him.

"We know..." Jenna growled, pulling in onto Duncan. Clara started taking charge shots at Duncan while Jenna started firing and zooming in onto Duncan, but Duncan kept dodging and deflecting the shots, all while he kept shooting at Greg. For every move the three pilots had, Duncan kept evading each one.

"This can't be right..." Jenna snarled. "We've outnumbered this guy three to one! There's no way he could last this long out here!"

But Duncan kept spinning his ship around, dodging everything the team threw at him. But even he felt it was getting too much for him to handle, as he fumbled the radio to the base on the ground.

"My backup's all gone," yelled Duncan. "Can you send more help, Michelle?"

Michelle was hanging from the ceiling from one of the rails, hiding from plain sight from Falco and Robert. Michelle was breathing in exhaustion, fighting the two to no end. Unable to simply jump down, Michelle took out a hand grenade and threw it down to the ground, sending a shockwave that shook the entire building.

"The hell was that?" Falco yelled.

Robert looked to where the explosion resonated from, but couldn't find anyone nearby. "I think Michelle's playing with us," sighed Robert.

Falco frantically scanned the area, only for it to be in vain. "Got any other plans?" he asked.

Robert growled, not wanting to give up on finding Michelle so easily. "The only thing I can think of right now is to hunt her down inside here. She couldn't have gone far."

When Falco and Robert left the immediate area, Michelle carefully brought herself down so that only her hands were hanging from the rail, and then jumped down softly to the ground, lightly tapping her feet as she landed on the floor, barely making a sound. She then went to the intercom and calmly grabbed it.

"Alpha squadron, report in to the base at once," Michelle ordered. "Anyone else who is nearby should come over, too. I have a feeling we'll be getting more troops sometime soon."

"About time!" Duncan yelled back on the intercom. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Taking care of some house cleaning," explained Michelle confidently. "We won't be far from enacting the main plan soon. Soon we can take the missiles to Corneria, and then we can blow this joint up while the Republican Army is flocking over here. It'll be quite a show, that's for sure."

"Understood," replied Duncan. "Now I just gotta get out of here. I've taken heavy damage."

"Come into the base now," ordered Michelle. "There's no reason to fight these jerks any further. Help is on the way. Besides, I need you to help arm the bomb."

"Yes, ma'am," confirmed Duncan. There was Jenna and Greg trailing closely behind Duncan, but Duncan pulled the brakes on his ship, and the two sped quickly past them. Duncan then turned his ship around and darted towards the base.

"Where the hell is he going?" asked Greg in disbelief.

"I don't think he's the type to simply get up and run away," said Jenna. "He's probably following orders to go somewhere."

Suddenly, all of the team's radars started beeping crazily. "Incoming enemies from all directions!" screamed Clara.

Soon enough, there were ships coming from all over the area, heading directly towards the entire team.

"Greg, Clara," ordered Jenna, "go chase Duncan and figure out where he's going. I'll get out of here and get some more reinforcements."

"Got it," confirmed Clara, as she sped off with Greg. Duncan was headed towards the base, and went inside one of the secret compartments that popped up as Duncan approached the base. As soon as Duncan entered the compartment, it closed back into the earth, disappearing from plain sight.

"Guess we gotta go in the hard way," sighed Clara, as she started to land her ship. Greg and Clara immediately jumped right out with their blasters in their hands, and ran towards the main entrance, ready to tear down the door with force, only to find it already blown up.

"Looks like Falco beat us here," said Greg. "Let's just hope things haven't gone wrong."

As Greg entered into the base, he got nailed with a club right in the head, knocking him down to the ground. Marcus then appeared from the wall, staring directly at Clara, face to face. It didn't take long for Clara's skin to crawl from the inside out.

"Don't make me hurt you," Marcus warned.

"You already have," Clara scowled. "Starting a war with Corneria is bad enough."

"I'm not here to discuss the gory details of my life story," Marcus barked. "Get in the brig before I force you in there."

"Make me," dared Clara.

Marcus went over and grabbed Clara by the throat, bringing her off the floor by a few inches. Clara gasped and choked, trying to free herself from Marcus' grasp, when he threw her down into the control panels nearby.

"What's gotten into you?" screamed Clara as she struggled to get onto her feet.

"Shut up!" Marcus yelled back.

"You weren't supposed to be this way!" Clara was just about in tears.

"SHUT UP!" Marcus drew out his blaster and shot at Clara's feet, startling Clara as she fell to the ground, trembling in fear.

"Just make sure you know your place around here," declared Marcus. "Soon the whole galaxy will be put into order, and peace will rein in Lylat once and for all. You'll see soon enough."

Clara, deep down, wanted to fight back against that statement, but she couldn't, if only to avoid another one of Marcus' outbursts. So she turned away from Marcus and sat there, silent and still, still shaking from nearly being shot at.

Then Marcus' radio started speaking out of his back pocket. "Marcus!" yelled Michelle out of the radio. "Where the hell are you?"

"Just taking care of a couple of intruders," replied Marcus back. "What's up?"

"We got the bomb ready and set to go. Just meet us at the hangar and we'll be on our way to Corneria."

"Got it," answered Marcus, as he turned to Clara, who was in shock. "I'll give you this one chance, Clara. Leave now, and never return. This base will blow up in a matter of minutes, and everyone will surely be killed. Run back to somewhere safe like Papetoon. It'll be safe there. The next few days will be a bloodbath."

"Is this your idea of peace?" scowled Clara. "To murder innocent lives?"

Marcus groaned, putting his hand on his face. "Look, I don't have much time to explain all of this. Now get the hell out of here, before you get blown up along with the rest of the idiots you brought with you!"

"What if I want to die with them?" asked Clara in bereft. "I'd rather die here than live on knowing what you've done."

"Suit yourself," sighed Marcus, as he signaled for the guards. "Take her to the brig, and then get out of here. We don't have much time left."

As Marcus went off towards the hangar and the guards went to get Clara, Clara grabbed a blade from one of the guards and stabbed it into his stomach, and Clara beat up the second guard, sending them both down wincing in pain. Afterwards, she ran to where Marcus left, but she was faced with multiple paths in her way, and couldn't see Marcus anywhere. She turned towards the left and frantically ran, searching left and right for the bomb. She faced another fork in the hallway, and went to the right this time. As she swung around the corner, she bumped into a tall figure, and drew out her blaster, only to find Falco and Robert in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" asked Robert.

"Looking for him," replied Clara, pointing at Falco.

"Where's everyone else?" asked Falco in confusion.

"Jenna's up in the air somewhere, Greg's inside -" Clara's mind hovered all over the place. "Listen, Falco, there's a bomb on this base somewhere!"

"What? Are you crazy?" Falco shouted in exasperation.

"There's no time to explain!" Clara kept shouting. "We don't have much time, Falco, and it's only a matter of minutes before this whole base blows up!"

Robert's face lit up in realization, as Clara kept fussing. "Of course..." he said to himself. "They'll blow this place up to hide any evidence that they were there in the first place, all while the Republican Army sends in their reinforcements."

"So the base will blow up and the blame gets placed on the Republic?" Clara trembled.

"That's the plan..." Robert sighed. "I just didn't think Michelle would be crazy enough to go with the plan. The only issue was that the bomb has to be set manually, and there isn't enough time to get from the cellar to the surface and far away from here in time..."

"Wait a minute!" Falco interrupted. "What cellar?"

"The cellar located at the bottom of this... base..." The realization then dawned on Robert. "Of course! It's the only place where the bomb could be concealed."

"Well, what the hell are we waiting for? Let's get down there!" Falco's normal demeanor gave way to a more panicked look, a look Clara had never seen before from Falco.

Robert led the way to the cellar, moving through the maze of hallways easily, as he quickly moved his way around, knowing which way to turn and which way to go. The two closely followed Robert until Robert stopped dead in his tracks and looked up towards the steel door in front of him.

"This is it. This is where the bomb is. Trouble is, I was never allowed to go in here. I wasn't allowed in."

"What?" Clara was beyond frustrated. "NOW you tell us!"

"Be quiet," Falco shushed to Clara. "Do you think the door can be taken down?"

"It might be too thick," admitted Robert. "Besides, blowing this door up might set off the bomb inside."

"So blasting this door isn't an option then..." Falco sighed. "The only way through seems to be the hard way."

"With a keypad lock," said Clara, analyzing the door. "If I can wire the keypad in a certain way, we might be able to confuse it and get the door to open."

Falco stared at Robert for a few moments, before turning back to Clara. "I haven't got any other ideas, so go ahead, then! We'll keep you covered."

In an instant, Clara tore off the covers of the keypad and found a large array of wires circling around and bunched together. "Looks like a pretty simple fix," she said to herself.

"Wish I could say the same thing," remarked Robert.

"Hmm?" Clara said.

"Nothing," replied Robert, turning away from Clara. Soon enough, Robert heard some footsteps coming from the other end of the hallway, and he drew out his blaster. "Looks like we got company!" he shouted.

"You read my mind," replied Falco, doing the same as he dodged the shots the soldiers were firing at him. Falco returned fire, and a couple of soldiers immediately went down, while the others went into the side and took a few breaths, before sending down a grenade towards the group. Robert immediately picked it up and threw it back at the soldiers, and it blew up just as Robert got the grenade away a few feet from themselves, startling Clara in the process, as she dropped to the ground groaning and holding her head.

"Get up, quick!" yelled Robert.

"Sorry…" whimpered Clara, as she slowly got off the ground. As she got back to the keypad, she scanned the wires all across, unsure where to go next. "Shit, I must have lost track where I was," muttered Clara under her breath. She moved some wires around in the keypad, scrambling to get through. When all the wires were connected, the keypad sparked and shorted out in a flash. Clara cursed and swore at herself, before Falco interrupted her tirade.

"Here," Falco said, "let me give it a try." Before he could take a good look at the keypad, though, a group of thugs came running into the hallway, wearing familiar Republican regalia.

"So," said Captain Meyer. "We meet again, Falco. After all this time, you still couldn't help yourself breaking in one more time."

"Breaking into what?" Falco chirped. "We're only trying to save your asses here. There's a bomb inside here, and the only way we can prevent getting blown to bits is to disarm the damn thing!"

Captain Meyer turned to her troops and gave the impression she wasn't totally convinced of what Falco was saying. "If what you say is true... Then who planted the bomb in the first place?"

"Star Wolf," barked Robert, breaking into the conversation. "They're the ones who started everything in the first place, not Falco."

"Be quiet!" Meyer yelled at Robert. "Falco's fingerprints are all over that blast in Venom, and he knows it!"

"That's a lie, and you know it," snapped Robert. "What do you have to gain from convicting Falco of all this? How can I prove to you that he isn't the one behind everything that's happened?"

"You don't have to  _prove_  anything," said Meyer smugly. "I don't care if he's really guilty or not, to be honest... I just care about what the people think."

"What if I told you that I was behind what happened in Venom?" asked Robert, holding his breath. "What if I told you everyone else involved in all of this?"

Meyer stared at Robert in confusion, and shook her head. "Nobody would believe us. We've been pinning everything on Falco for so long, nobody would believe all of this."

"Gee, thanks for helping me out here!" Falco yelled in exasperation. "After all I did for you guys - this is the respect I get? You guys make me sick."

Suddenly, a loud rumble could be heard from all over the building, and everyone had trouble keeping their balance.

"What the heck is THAT?" yelled Falco.

"It sounds like it's coming from above us," Robert said.

Meyer soon calmed herself down and returned to giving her smug look. "That's the reinforcements coming in. And if you want to live, Falco, you'd better cooperate with us."

"Over my dead body," declared Falco. "You might as well should, you've come this far already."

Meyer simply laughed. "Careful what you wish for," she chuckled. "You never know what might happen."

Soon enough, troops arrived and surrounded Falco and Clara, and brought them to their knees and held guns against their heads. Then in a flash, a large ship came through the building, and dozens of lasers fired directly at the Republican troops and battled with each other. Falco took advantage of the distraction by pulling out his blaster and shot Captain Meyer in the torso, then shot other Republican soldiers to get himself clear from the melee that occurred in front of him. He then turned towards the ship that crashed into the building and noticed the pilot wasn't moving inside.

"Jenna!" Falco ran towards the cockpit and opened it up, and Jenna slowly turned her head and smiled briefly at Falco.

"Jenna... How did you find us?"

"I got a signal..." Jenna weakily replied. "Somebody must have communicated with us. We kept firing in there, but this was the only way I could break through."

Before Jenna could speak further, Greg's ship could be seen peeking through the opening Jenna had created, and started firing at the steel door, blasting it open.

Robert's face lit up in amazement. "Of course! The laser blasts don't affect the bomb at all! It just reflects off the shell! That worked perfectly!"

"How did you know that - Aargh..." Falco cut off his question. "There's no time for asking - we need to get to that bomb, NOW!"

Without hesitation, Robert ran through where the steel door was, and headed down below and onto a platform, only to be stopped by Marcus, as a blaster got pressed into his chest.

"Stay where you are if you want to live," said Marcus.

Robert drew a short breath, his whole body sweating from head to toe. "You must be crazy, staying here waiting for this thing to blow up... You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"I know fully well what I'm 'getting into," Marcus barked, pressing his blaster harder into Robert's chest. "Now stay back, before I kill you, too!"

"We'll all be dead if you don't do anything, Marcus! Don't you realise that? You can be a hero, too! Help me stop this thing!"

"Make me," said Marcus.

Robert then grabbed Marcus' arm and managed to break his grip on the blaster, but soon Marcus grabbed Robert by the throat. Soon, the two started brawling with each other, with blood spattering all over the floor. Marcus delivered an uppercut right to Robert's face, and then kicked him and flipped him down a platform, sending Robert dangling by an inch. As Robert held on, his arms pulled with every strength he could in his body, forcing every part of his muscle to bring him back up to the platform...

Marcus heard some shots coming at him from a distance and picked up his blaster from the ground, and returned fire. Clara and Falco were both in the area, searching for the bomb. Falco ran in one direction while Clara went in the other, as she navigated through a maze of platforms suspended in the air. She then heard Robert screaming out, "Help me! Somebody, help!"

But Clara also saw Marcus, with his back turned, facing away from Clara. She had an open shot at Marcus, but it was too far away to be of any use. She had to get closer to Marcus to get a clean shot at him. But she then saw Robert literally clinging to life on the platform, with a bottomless pit directly below him.

There was no hesitation on Clara's part. She ran over to where Robert was, and immediately grabbed his hand and brought him up safely onto the platform. Still shaking, Robert let out a sigh of relief and caught his breath. "Thanks... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything," replied Clara. "Now where did Marcus go?"

"I saw him go over to the alleyway over on the left," pointed Robert. "I think Falco went after him as well. But I still haven't found the bomb yet. Marcus could be simply distracting him."

"You're right," said Clara. "Let's find the bomb first, then we can chase after Marcus."

"Right," said Robert. He turned to Clara and stared blankly into space. "Well, let's get going then, before it blows up!"

They both ran throw the narrow alleyways, huffing and puffing as they kept sliding on the slippery floor, getting from one place to another. But they had no luck finding the bomb at all, or any clues as to where the bomb might be. The two split off in different directions and searched high and low for the bomb, but couldn't find it any faster. Then the two met together again.

"Do you hear a beeping noise?" asked Clara, out of breath.

"What noise?' panted Robert. He then looked up towards the top of the room they were in, and noticed an awning there that wasn't there before. On the platform was a mysterious device, as large as an ancient computer, and with tons of digits scrolling across a screen. Robert's heart sunk as he scanned at it's every detail.

"I might have found it," Robert gulped.

Clara turned to the big object that Robert was looking at. "You mean that big thing there? How didn't we notice it before -"

"Never mind that," rushed Robert. "Let's just get up there, fast!"

The two ran towards the machine, beeping away into eternity. There wasn't a ladder to help them up to where the bomb was, but there was only a tiny ledge that they could get themselves onto. Robert was just tall enough to grab the ledge with the edge of his fingertips, and couldn't get himself any higher.

"Give me a lift," Robert said to Clara. Clara lifted Robert's feet and he was able to get enough leverage to get himself up to the ledge. Then Robert was able to turn himself around and lift Clara onto the ledge as well.

"Good, we're both on," Clara said. "Doesn't look like we have much room to move around with."

Robert simply acknowledged the remark, and quickly tore off the cover of the machine, revealing a whole series of circuits and gears moving around in place. "This is more complicated than I thought," said Robert.

Clara leaned over towards the machine and started playing around with the wires and circuits that were laid across. She kept looking at each circuit and kept tracing it back to the central battery in the middle.

"You have any idea how this works?" Robert asked.

"Not quite," admitted Clara, "but if there's one thing I do know, the battery is the part that holds this thing together. If this loses power in any way, the bomb will self-destruct itself, no matter what time is left. There's a whole bunch of anti-tampering devices on here as well. Getting to where the actual bomb is located is going to be tricky. Especially without any proper tools. I only got a blade in my pocket."

"We just gotta move some of the stuff out of the way that we don't need, instead of disconnecting everything..." Robert took a look deep inside the machine. "I think I see the explosive device in there!"

"Where's that?" Clara jumped.

"Deep down inside the machine. If we could only get some of these wires out of the way..." Robert said, noticing a wall of wires blocking its path.

"Just hold some of them up for a bit, so I can get a clearer view," stated Clara. Robert obliged and moved some of the wires out of the way, and Clara peeked inside the machine to where the explosive device is. "Geez, this is needlessly complicated," she commented. "There's a keypad and a -" Clara stopped in her tracks.

"What?" Robert yelled.

"Two minutes." Clara gulped.

"Shit," Robert muttered. "We don't have much time to think. Just do something, quick!"

Clara took out her blade and looked around at the explosive device. There were three medium-sized wires, one red, one blue, and one yellow. Each of them went to various parts of the machine, but it wasn't obvious as to which part it was going to.

As the machine kept buzzing away at Clara, her mind scrambled and traveled all over the place. The seconds kept ticking down as she stared at the wires, puzzled with each second passing by.

"What are you doing?" Robert screamed. "Just do something!"

"Guess we'll both be dead in a minute, anyways..." Clara said, resigned to her fate. She looked in the back and saw the yellow wire, sticking out like a sore thumb. "Probably not this one," she said to herself, "that looks too obvious." Then she saw the blue wire pulled tightly compared to the red wire, which was much looser. "The red one is always used in high voltage situations. It's the blue one then." Clara glanced up to the time slot quickly. "A minute and a half left. Guess we don't have anything to lose," she gulped.

Clara brought the blade through the wall of wires, with her outstretched hand barely reaching the blue wire at the back of the machine. "It's further out than I thought..." she grumbled.

"I can get a better look at it," jumped Robert. He leaned over as much as he could towards where Clara was positioned, close enough to feel her heavy breaths. "Just move the knife to the right a bit," said Robert.

"Which right?" barked Clara.

"My right," said Robert, as his heart paced faster than it already was going. "Go slowly, Clara, you're right next to the bomb..."

"I know that!" screamed Clara. "Just let me focus!"

"All right!" exclaimed Robert. "Just hurry up, we've got just over a minute!"

"I KNOW, just..." Clara stopped herself before she could ramble any further, with sweat streaming down her face. Clara's blade reached to where the blue wire was, and Robert nearly jumped in anticipation.

"You got it!" Robert yelled. "Cut it! Now!"

In an instant, Clara pulled the blade and cut the blue wire in two. The machine started sounding a long, low, tone, vibration all across the building they were in.

"What's going on?" Clara said conceringly.

Robert turned over to where the time display was. "The time seems to have stopped... did we do something right?"

The long tone then gave way to a series of beeps, each one louder and more piercing than the rest. Clara leaned over her ear and clenched her teeth in fear.

"It's still ticking..." Clara gulped.

"What?" Robert kept looking around in panic. "We're doomed!"

The beeping could be heard from all over the building, as Falco kept running around, searching for the bomb everyone was looking for. He noticed the alarms ringing out and stopped where he was, out of breath and sore, as he looked around and listened to where the sounds were coming from.

"That can't be good," Falco sighed in disbelief. "What the hell are these guys doing now?"

"Only just the beginning. The beginning of a new empire. You have no idea what we're going to do," said Marcus, standing on top of a platform near the ceiling.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing..." Falco groaned, shaking his head. "Who fed you with that nonsense?"

Before Marcus could reply with a snarky remark, the beeping that was ringing across the building suddenly stopped, and a small bang rang out.

"The fuck was that all about?" Falco yelled.

"Your friends just found out that the whole bomb was all a ruse! Everyone came here trying to defuse it, so it gave everyone else ample opportunity to get out of here!"

Falco, taken aback, looked all around himself. There were dozens of spots for missiles that were suspiciously left alone, which were only made noticed to Falco now.

"You're not interested in peace..." said Falco. "You're only interested in war."

"Peace will only come when people are moving in the same direction. We're simply trying to get people off the wrong path."

"By force?" Falco said, raising his eyebrow. "Peace isn't about conforming, it's about unity. Being unified one way or the other no matter what we think of each other. The world, for all its faults, was still building towards trust and justice."

"Justice?" said Marcus, with suspicion. "I didn't see a whole lot of justice in this world. You, of all people, should know that. You're the most wanted man in Lylat, for crying out loud! Besides, the world is stacked against the elitists who think they control the place. We're just trying to prove that somebody else can take over."

"Enough talk!" interrupted Falco. "If you're willing to stand up for yourself, come down from there and show yourself like a man! Prove you have the balls to face up to someone your size!"

"Drop your weapons, then," demanded Marcus. "If you're so interested in trust, then prove that you're willing to trust someone like me."

"Why should I trust you?" asked Falco. "If it weren't for us, you'd be some random punk."

"What do you mean by that?" yelled Marcus, at his breaking point. "All you did was prop up the bullies! The government! They gave nothing in return!" Marcus turned away from Falco to catch his own breath. He was breathing heavily, gasping for air and flush in the face, his blood vessels about to burst. "My father left the system in a worse shape than he started out with, and he knows it."

"That's a lie, and you know it!" Falco blurted. "Even if the government turned their back on me, I'd like to think I did something good for society! Ridding the world of Andross and all of his goons -" Falco turned away in disbelief. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. You're becoming the very thing your father swore to destroy."

"What my father may or may not have done means nothing now," said Marcus. "Soon we will be the leaders of the world."

"Prove it," Falco demanded. "Come down like a man."

Marcus took out his blaster and threw it down on the ground. "Only if you're willing to do the same for me."

Falco stared back in silence, then sighed and threw down his blaster as well. "If that's what you want," said Falco, gritting his teeth.

Marcus walked to the controls and lowered himself down, until he was able to safely jump down to the ground. He looked back up to Falco and his heartrate increased, as he walked slowly towards Falco and past the blasters they threw down, with Marcus careful not to look at the blasters on the way. As he got to Falco, he looked up to him, as Falco stood half a foot taller than Marcus.

"So," Marcus said to Falco. "You look tougher than I thought."

"What's that got to do with anything?" replied Falco.

"Just that I've heard and seen a lot about you," explained Marcus. "All the lies the government tried to spread about you.

Falco shook his head. "Look, I don't care what you believe about me. Just remember who got you in this position in the first place."

"Oh, I remember very clearly..." Marcus sneered.

"Just take my advice - go back while you still can. You're better off at Papetoon than anywhere around here."

"There's nothing left for me there..." Marcus sighed. "I had my chance and I blew it."

"Then I don't know what to say, then." Falco reached into his pocket for his communicator, and Marcus flinched, thinking he was pulling out a weapon. But when Falco showed his communicator, out of nowhere, Marcus started to almost become aware of his surroundings as his senses were heightened.

Inside, Marcus could now clearly read Falco's mind - as if a switch had been turned on inside his brain. Inside, Falco was thinking, " _He needs professional help, now_."

Falco handed out the communicator towards Marcus. "I can get you the help you need... Come with me."

Marcus twitched his legs, and then slowly came near Falco until they were close to each other. He grabbed the communicator in Falco's hands as he was trembling in fear. Marcus then got another thought from Falco's mind - " _This is my last resort before I kill him._ "

In an instant, Marcus' heart rate jumped. Those words seeped into his mind and boiled his blood from the inside out. Marcus quickly took out the blade hidden in his jacket and stabbed Falco in the midsection, causing Falco to drop the communicator on the ground. Before Falco could process what happened, Marcus twisted the knife, as Falco gasped for air and blood started dripping from all over his stomach.

Marcus seethed his teeth as he grabbed Falco's collar and brought their faces towards each other. "I... Don't... Need... To... Go...  _Anywhere._ "

Marcus then let go of Falco, and Falco fell onto his back on the ground. The blade was stuck inside Falco's body, with blood pouring out of the midsection. Marcus wanted it back, but noticed it was too far inside the body to be taken out easily. He then turned to look at the hand which Marcus stabbed Falco with, and saw Falco's blood dripping from it. Marcus grimaced in horror, and turned back to face Falco, lying motionless on the ground and staring at the ceiling, but Marcus looked away, shuddering at the body. Marcus then ran away, not wanting to keep Michelle waiting any longer. His job was done.

All that Falco was left to do was to stare up at the blinding lights glaring at the ceiling, still at a loss as to what happened to him at the moment. He always anticipated meeting a violent end at some point in his life, but he never guessed it would be this drawn out. He always thought death would be quick, painless, and instant. It wasn't the case for him. Left staring at the ceiling and unable to get himself up under his own power, Falco was terrified. He never quite knew why he led down this rotten path of life that he went on - becoming a fighter pilot, fighting and killing the enemies, only to become one himself and suffering the same fate. Blood started coming out of his mouth as he felt his organs writhe and contract inside of him - or what was left of them, anyway. Soon, his vision started to go dark, even with all the lights above him. It would soon be over for Falco, and Falco reluctantly embraced death's door awaiting him.

His last thoughts were of his childhood, sitting on the once pristine beaches of Zoness, basking in the sunlight. That was where he would be for the rest of his life. Finally, he would be in peace.


	28. Chapter 28

All alone on the  _Amethyst_ , Marcus kept staring out into the darkness of space, contemplating life as the warship steered closer to Corneria by the minute. Marcus was sitting down on his bed, out of breath, still looking at his hands. He could swear that he still kept seeing blood on his hands after leaving Falco to die the day before, but it still wouldn't completely wash off.

Marcus had tried getting sleep the night before, but the blood on his hands kept him up all night. Everything seemed to be amplified that night – the hum of the ship's engine, the sounds of each ship passing by, and just about every other clank and rattle drove Marcus crazy.

Marcus heard a buzzer at his door, so he reluctantly shuffled towards the door before opening it. There, he found Duncan, patiently waiting whilst leaning on the wall.

"What do you want?" barked Marcus.

"Nothing, really..." Duncan replied, scratching his newly acquired beard. "Just wanted to check on you, that's all. Hardly seen ya recently."

Marcus sighed in exasperation. "I know, I just haven't felt well at all the last couple of days..."

"You haven't felt well the last couple of weeks! Ever since we took our Star Falco the first time - never mind about that, alright?" Duncan looked away in frustration. "Can't believe he's still yapping about that," Duncan muttered under his breath.

"What's new with you?" asked Marcus, hoping to change the subject.

"Nothing much," replied Duncan in an uninteresting manner. "Nobody out here near us, not even the Republican Army to bother us. It's been surprisingly smooth sailing towards Corneria."

"Wow..." Marcus smirked. "I can't believe fooling those idiots back on Macbeth would be so easy..."

"Don't talk like that yet," interrupted Duncan. "They still might have some defenses left at Corneria. Besides, I don't know if they've caught on to us yet or not. Don't get too cocky just yet."

"You're right," admitted Marcus. "I just want this whole thing to be over. Then we can do what we want to do for a change."

Duncan smirked in agreement, a rare sight for him. "I gotta admit, even I've been sick of all this talk. But it'll be golden if we pull this off, then we'll have all the money and babes we want in the world."

Marcus chuckled back. "Then what happens afterwards?"

Duncan gave a confused look back, before putting his hand around Marcus' shoulders. "What do you mean, 'afterwards?' This is the dream, my friend, the finish line! Just think, we'll have the whole world on our feet, and everything you could want in it!"

Marcus smiled back briefly, before going back to his solemn look he had before.

"You're worried about Robert again, aren't you?" Duncan asked.

"Him?" Marcus glared back. "I wasn't even thinking about him. I was just..." Marcus trailed off. "I don't know, my mind's all over the place. I didn't get enough sleep last night."

Duncan chuckled back. "And I thought I was the night owl! Look, I'll leave you alone for a bit, but Michelle's wanting you back on duty in a while. Besides, it's getting rather lonely in there, if you know what I mean."

"I'll be out in a few minutes!" jumped Marcus, as he pushed off Duncan's arm off his shoulder. "I'll be fine. Tell Michelle I'll be there in ten."

Duncan stared back in shock, unsure what to do next. Marcus saw Duncan and drew his head down in shame. "Sorry, man," said Marcus, as he sat down on the ground.

Duncan also kneeled down on the ground to see face to face at Marcus. "You sure that stuff I gave you earlier isn't messing with you?" he asked.

"No," said Marcus confidently. "I can handle it."

"Ok, if you're sure..." Duncan replied. "If not, I can always bump the dose up some more if you want... I'll see you in a bit, then."

"Sounds good, then," said Marcus, getting back up from the ground, dusting off dirt off himself. Once Duncan exited the room, Marcus went over to the dresser, found the flask he had been using, and opened it up and took a drink from it. Instantly, the fluid soaked inside his mind and relieved his headaches for a moment, but then the headaches returned after a short while. Marcus took another sip, and had the same affect – a brief reprieve, but the same pain returned all the same. Marcus opened the flask and looked inside, dissatisfied at his drink. "I gotta stop buying this watered down crap," groaned Marcus. "Ah well. Duncan's right – once this is over – if this is over, we'll have whatever we want. Then I can get my hands on real Venomian bourbon soon enough."

In a moment, Marcus heard some alarms ringing inside the ship, and sealed up the flask and tossed it back inside the drawer. "I'll think about it later," he uttered to himself, as he clumsily got his jacket on and ran out of the room towards the bridge.

Once Marcus got there, Michelle was already at the helm, taking over from the autopilot and bringing the ship out of warp.

"We got some company on the radar," yelled Michelle. "We'll see if we can take care of them first before we hit Corneria."

Once the ship came out of orbit, a few asteroids swung around the ship, narrowly missing it a few times. Michelle turned the ship around the asteroids as the Republican cruisers came in front of them.

"Good," Michelle smirked, turning to Marcus. "We can lose them in the asteroid field. Marcus, get the guns ready and prepare to take them down!"

"Got it, Captain!" responded Marcus. He got into the weapons board and readied the cannons, warming them up before sending off some warning shots, taking out an asteroid in the process. Once Marcus got the guns pointed towards the Republican cruisers, Marcus fired directly at them, dispersing the formation and sending more asteroid debris their way.

Michelle took advantage of this and blasted the ship right through a hollow asteroid, filled with large extraterrestrial beings inside. Marcus fired the guns more and took out two more cruisers, but three more still followed the ship inside. It soon became apparent that the asteroid had more twists and turns than anticipated, as the light dimmed as the ship went further inside.

"Hang on, we're diving in!" yelled Michelle.

"Jeez," groaned Duncan jokingly. "You sound way too corny when you say that."

"Shut up and let me focus, grunted Michelle.

Three cruisers followed the ship down into the asteroid, and the hollow asteroid was so tight that one of the cruisers behind them crashed into the walls immediately and exploded, leaving a flash of fire behind them. As the light of the fire faded away, Marcus aimed the gun at one of the other cruisers and fired blindly at them, managing to strike one of them and exploding that one as well. Soon, the last one fell behind as it nearly slammed into the wall itself, allowing for the ship to get out of the asteroid unaffected by the chase at all.

"Give me some more power, Duncan!" ordered Michelle. "We have to get to Corneria fast before the Republican Army catches up to us!"

"Right away!" replied Duncan, putting down the thrusters on the ship, sending it hurtling towards Corneria at a fast pace.

With the enemies out of the way for the time being, Marcus stepped out of the weapons board briefly to check on Michelle, before she glared back at him. "Get back, Marcus," she growled, "you need to send down the missiles when we get there!"

"Right," said Marcus, hopping back down to the weapons board. He flipped a few switches and moved the sights towards Corneria, as it got bigger and bigger as the ship drew closer. He hadn't seen it since he left the Academy, and it felt oddly familiar to him. But as he kept thinking of Corneria right then and there, his anger drew up and boiled his blood from within. Marcus armed the missiles and heard them grind and lock in place in an instant, and then looked back up to the blue skies of Corneria growing in front of him.

"Time to show them what we can do!" Marcus snarled. "All set, Michelle!"

"Fire when ready!" Michelle replied back.

Without hesitation, Marcus sent off the command to deliver the missiles down towards Corneria. Marcus' heartbeat steadily increased as the missiles drew closer and closer towards Corneria without any way of stopping them. Marcus almost felt like smiling at that moment, but he knew that there was still a long war ahead of him, and he finally started to figure out profound this moment was.

"Enemies coming in from behind us!" Duncan yelled, interrupting Marcus' thought process. "Man, they must be fast!"

"Those missiles can't be stopped, even if we are," said Michelle. "Marcus, fend them off as much as you can! Duncan, get in your Wolfen and fight them off from above. I'll try to dodge them from there."

Marcus returned back to the weapons board more enthusiastic than before, even with all the chaos going on around him. Somehow, in a backwards sort of way, this was his kind of lifestyle he wanted.

* * *

There was no time to mourn Falco's death. Even if he meant so much to her life in the short time they knew each other, Clara couldn't stop at any moment. Not now, not while Corneria lay under siege from Star Wolf. Or at least, what was remaining from it. Even though Wolf himself was dead, the team was still carrying on as if nothing happened. And Star Wolf was on the brink of starting a planetary-scale war in Lylat. So Clara had to get to Corneria, and fast, even with the rest of the team all over the place. Jenna was seriously hurt when she rammed her Arwing into the Star Wolf base, and Greg was taking Jenna to the hospital last time she checked. Robert was nowhere to be seen. So Clara went alone over to Corneria, chasing off Star Wolf as best as she could.

A Republican formation showed up as Clara made her way through the asteroids. Immediately a couple of the ships from the formation tailed off and followed directly behind her.

"Who is this?" barked the captain. "Identify yourself!"

Sweat started pouring down on Clara, and she started to shiver. Soon, she was able to collect her breath. "This is Jenna," Clara said. "Who's this?"

The radio fell silent for a few seconds, before someone finally spoke up. "Jenna? Jenna Grey? I thought you were dead!"

Clara laughed back nervously. "Ahh.. I don't know about that... nothing that's been spread recently can be proven true these days."

"Well," the captain continued, "we could certainly use your help! We're being told Star Wolf is about to launch some missiles towards Corneria!"

"Just show me where I need to go!" Clara responded.

"Sounds good," said the Captain. "One question though, what happened to your cruiser?"

"It's a long story..." replied Clara. "I don't have time to explain..." Clara switched off her radio, sighing a breath of relief. "Well, this is better than getting arrested again, I suppose..." The formation ahead of her started darting towards Corneria through a warp drive, and Clara cautiously followed behind it.

As the subspace swirled around her, it gave Clara some time to herself for once. "What'll happen to Star Falco now?" she asked herself. "Is this my future, to battle with the Republican Army? They're bound to find out about Jenna eventually. Maybe I'll split after this battle and head back to Papetoon as soon as possible.

Memories then flooded back of her family back on Papetoon, and pictured her sneering father when she landed back on her home planet. Clara shuddered and clenched her teeth. "On second thought," she told herself, "maybe I'd better stay away from Papetoon for now. But what the hell am I going to do?"

Then the subspace started to slow down, and her ship was dropped not far from Corneria's orbit. In an instant, flames and lasers fired from all kinds of directions, nearly blinding Clara as she covered her eyes with her arm. As she lowered her arm, she could see all kinds of destroyed ships - mainly Republican cruisers, as she could see its distinctive green stripes everywhere. Before she could comprehend just how many ships had been wrecked, Clara found five enemy ships directly behind her, closing in fast. Clara looped around the enemy ships and as she dropped behind them, the ships sped off and split in different directions. One of them, though, left a smart bomb behind in its wake, and Clara jerked her ship to one side, barely making it past the bomb as it exploded a few feet behind her ship.

"Shit, that was close," jumped Clara, as the alarms on the Arwing started to ring. Clara flipped through the controls to try to repair the shields that had been damaged, but it was all in vain. "One more hit like that and I'm toast," she gulped. She looked down to her radar and noticed a bunch of ships headed towards directly at her. "Looks like I'd better get out of here!" But the ships sped right past Clara without doing anything, and Clara turned to see where they were going. "There's nothing there," she said. "What's going on?"

Then Clara turned back forward and saw the  _Amethyst_  directly ahead of her, with the guns pointing straight at her. "Ah, fuck..." Clara grunted, instinctively pulling up the ship as she flew it over Star Wolf's ship. As the Arwing cleared Star Wolf's ship, Clara barely had enough time to settle down her heartrate when her radio came back on again. In all the chaos going on around her, she forgot she had left it on all this time.

"So, you've decided to barge right in, hmm?" said the voice on the radio. "Well, you'll see what we do with intruders around here. This planet is now the property of the Lylat Resistance Movement, and you're intruding on our property."

Clara felt her ship shake all over the place, as the alarms kept ringing out in unison. Soon, one of the laser shots broke through the shields and blasted right at Clara's engine. Clara gasped in horror as she saw smoke coming out of the back of her ship. Clara screamed out in panic, and fell short of breath. She flipped just about every switch she could on her dashboard to try to contain the fire, but had no luck. Clara's Arwing went directly towards the surface of Corneria, which was the exact opposite of where she wanted to be, given the missiles that Star Wolf had just launched behind her.

As Clara descended towards Corneria, she tried to take control of the Arwing as best as she could, but as the Arwing drew closer and closer to the surface, the Arwing only seemed to gain more speed and became harder to control. Eventually, though, Clara was able to bring the Arwing level to the ground, but the ground was still quickly approaching, and Clara was going far too fast for her own comfort. Other civilian ships flew past her, oblivious to the fact of the chaos going on above them.

Clara tried to find a place where she could land, but she found nothing but rocky terrain, highlighted by hills and mountains and trees surrounding the area. Eventually, she aimed and fired her lasers on rapid fire, hitting the trees and clearing a path so that she could make her way through to a flat surface. She was able to get some of the trees out of the way and finally managed to bring the Arwing flat on its belly on the ground, but it still had little room to slow down, and crashed right into a tree in the side of the Arwing. Only the seatbelts held Clara back from slamming her skull against the windscreen. The whiplash as Clara snapped back to her seat gave her a throbbing pain down her head and neck, and the cockpit was damaged enough to make her legs and arms sore, giving some cuts all around her body.

As the flames on the Arwing's engine started to die down, Clara exhaled and brought her hand towards her forehead, trying to rest her head. When she felt a sting coming from her forehead, she brought her hand back and into sight, and saw blood on her hand. Shuddering and shivering, Clara slowly opened up the emergency windscreen remover and slumped out of the smoldering Arwing.

As she stepped out, Clara noticed the sound of waves casually washing ashore, and instinctively started limping towards the sound. As she got out of the forest and into the open air, she stopped dead in her tracks and fell down to her knees, staring out into the sky in disbelief. Hundreds and hundreds of missiles rained down on the skies of Corneria, illuminating an already blood red sky as the sun started to rise.

The missiles were far away from Clara that it wouldn't become an immediate threat, but it might as well have been. Tears started to pour out of Clara's face as she stared blankly into the morning sky. In her panicked and terrified state, Clara felt the need to scream, but could only utter out a few shaky words.

"Why did this have to happen, Falco?"

* * *

Slippy threw away the cigarette that he was smoking in a hurry, noticing the sound of airships coming down from a distance. He had grown wary of big airships recently, given the news of Corneria falling down at a moment's notice, but then again, he had always been wary. Just about anything could make him suspicious at this point.

As the warship drew closer, Slippy noticed the size of the ship was much larger than most of the ones that came in. Weapons appeared on the ship that were twice the size of a normal person.

"Uhh, boss?" said one of the workers. "There's a ship coming in, and it don't look friendly..."

"No shit," Slippy snapped back. "Get the automatic rifles. This could get ugly." Slippy hobbled back as quickly as he could to the workshop, grumbling at each misstep he made along the way.

As the warship landed on the water outside the workshop, the dock immediately opened, and a few ruffians immediately ran out, rifles in hand. A steady figure stepped out of the ship, wearing a blue suit, sporting blue hair, though with a few grey hairs or two.

One of the ruffians ran up to the woman, out of breath. "They got rifles as well, you think we should wait until they act, Miss..."

"No," the woman replied. "They're scrambling right now, let's get them while we have the chance." She then took the machine gun the ruffian was carrying in his hands.

"But how do you..." the ruffian whined, before he stopped himself. "Whatever you say, I guess."

The woman had little time to argue with the ruffian, picked up from one of the useless slums of Zoness, doing little else but get drunk every night for a living. She sighed and noticed the front door had now been bolted inwards. "Take it out with the rocket launcher," she ordered the ruffian, pointing at the steel door.

The ruffian then waved to a few other of his folks over, and one of them came to the woman and brought out the rocket launcher as requested, then fired directly at it, blowing it to pieces in an instant. The woman walked in with a few others alongside her, giving her strength in numbers.

"Put your hands up," she barked out to the workers inside. "Hand me over Slippy Toad right now, and none of you will get hurt. This is your only warning."

"What do you need him for?" yelled back one of the workers in the distance.

"What I want is none of your business," growled the woman. "Take me to him and you will be left alone."

The worker picked up a walkie talkie and drew it close to his face, sweating all over the place. "Boss, they're not looking for scrap metal, they're only looking for you, boss."

"What do you mean?" barked Slippy back on the walkie talkie. "What the hell do they want me for?"

"They're not saying," the worker whispered back. Suddenly, a scream could be heard off in the distance from one of the workers, grimacing in pain. "I think you'd better do what she says, boss."

"She?" Slippy took out his binoculars and looked at the figure leading the ruffians inside. "How the fuck did she get here?" Slippy snarled. "Get ready to fire, but not just yet," Slippy ordered back on the walkie talkie, before quietly opening the door to his office.

"What the hell do you want, Krystal?" Slippy yelled. "I thought you had enough from me!"

"You know very well what I want," Krystal snapped back.

"No, I don't..." admitted Slippy. "What would you want that I have?"

"My son," Krystal replied back sternly.

Slippy looked away from Krystal in disbelief, his head fuming inside. "I don't have your son - besides, are you deaf? He helped declare war on Corneria! You see, this is what happens when you raise someone in a box, they end up fucked up like this! I only sold him a ship - what do you want with me?"

Shots then rang out from the ruffians, aimed directly at the workers nearby Slippy. Soon a couple more ruffians had Slippy surrounded, and one of them punched Slippy in the face and the other took away his rifle. Krystal then walked up to Slippy, who was being restrained from charging directly at her.

"You know there's no point hiding any secrets from me," said Krystal. "Falco told me before he died that you knew something about this. Now, tell me exactly where Marcus goes on a regular basis, before I pull that stupid tongue of yours out of your mouth."

Slippy once again lunged at Krystal, but the ruffians held him back again. Krystal then took her hands and pressed them against Slippy's head. Slippy writhed and attempted to squirm his way out, but the mental pressure placed on Slippy was too great. He let out a painful groan, one out of desperation, which then turned into a scream of agony. Krystal then removed her hands from Slippy's face, and Slippy collapsed in the ruffian's arms.

"Take him away," Krystal ordered to the ruffians. "We got what we need. There's some clubs near Zoness that he goes to."

Slippy waivered in and out of consciousness as he gazed hazily at Krystal. "It's too late..."

In that moment, Krystal had realized from Slippy what exactly had happened at Corneria. There was nothing she could do now. Krystal turned back at Slippy and grabbed him by the throat, almost putting him in a chokehold. "If I find out you're the one responsible for starting all this, then you'll wish you were never born."

"I'm just a businessman," croaked Slippy. "It's not my responsibility to find out where all the money goes."

"Oh, I'll bet," snapped Krystal, as she let go of Slippy's throat. As the ruffians took Slippy to their ship, Krystal looked at his semi-conscious body with dismay. "Damn you," she uttered under her breath. She pondered life inside her own head, lost and lonely, without any purpose in her life.

Krystal returned back to her memories of the son that once had bright optimism, of all the ideals that they once held for the future. She found it hard to believe the son that once looked forward to peace was now the same person waging war all over Lylat. She looked back on those times, wistfully wishing she could do things differently all over again.

"If there was some way I could see into the future instead of the past," Krystal sighed, as she entered the warship before it blasted off into space, in a much different mindset than the one she had before.

* * *

There was nobody else left to be found in the house. It had been empty for some time, and there wasn't a chance anyone would come back to it. The house was a mess, with trash scattered everywhere and dirt and grime all over the place. There wasn't a reason to clean it up, anyways.

Fox preferred to stay outside in the sweltering heat, even in the line of sight of anyone willing to hunt him down. If someone were to do it, he would welcome it. He had wanted to end this reign of terror for years, find a way out of this nightmare, but he couldn't muster up the courage to do it. Ironic, considering how he made a living killing people for a living, he somehow couldn't find a way to end it all himself.

All that Fox would do all day is lie down in the burnt grass of Papetoon, listening to the sounds of the wind whistling around him. How it would travel up and around, up and down, in an endless cycle. Somehow, it soothed him, in a world filled with chaos.

Fox then sat back up and scoured all around the area, analyzing every sound as his muscles tensed up in anticipation. He still found nothing but the winds around him. "Bet there's someone hiding in the grass somewhere," Fox quietly muttered under his breath, as he picked up a heavy rock. He sat still with the rock for a moment, before putting his hand down, letting out a sigh of relief.

Fox lied back down, flat on his back, staring endlessly into the pale blue sky. He had been doing this for a few days now, neglecting his crops in the process. He had always wanted to be a farmer when he was a kid, seeing his father becoming a beacon of light right before his eyes.

His dad often said to him, "Don't let anyone tell you what to do. Always do what you think is right. Never give up, trust your instincts. Then you'll be able to lead the world."

Fox let the words sit for a minute, alone in the fields. "It's my instincts that brought me here... It's my instincts that got Bill killed and ruined my family... It's my instincts that started this whole mess in the first place..."

Fox twitched his head and slapped himself in the face to stimulate his drained mind. "Fuck, I'm thinking back again. I'd better go inside," he continued, wiping the sweat of his face. "I'm parched like hell." Fox went into his house, with nothing but the sunlight lighting up the rooms inside. He grabbed a lonely water bottle and poured some of it into a glass, then downed the glass in one gulp. He looked at the bottle again, then sighed as he put it back into the fridge. "Gotta keep up my rations in control," Fox said.

He sat back down on the couch inside, brushing off papers and other junk off one side to make room for his body. He was shaking from the inside out, almost on the verge of tears. Even though there was nobody around him, Fox knew deep down that he had to suppress any whimper that he might have inside of him. He knew what today was. It was the day his father died, all those years ago. Now, on that same day, his own son was destroying what he had worked his whole life to protect.

"There isn't much point in living anymore," Fox thought to himself. All around him, Fox looked for items that might be used to take himself down. Furniture and papers were all over the place, but none of it could take his life in one blow. Not like a hammer, knife, or rope.

He went up to his bedroom, filled with the tears that he had shed before in the years long past. Inside a cabinet, Fox dove through all kinds of junk as he pulled out his reliable blaster, just for this kind of emergency. Fox was shaking and his heartrate went up, as he slowly turned the blaster all around, looking at every detail. "Aargh, I'm only delaying the inevitable…" he groaned, as he held his head in his hand, as it pounded away like crazy. Fox breathed heavily in and out, as maddening thoughts rushed in and out of his mind.

"Damn you Marcus… Damn you for doing this to me! I should have made you a farmer… just like I wanted to be at one point, dammit…"

Fox held the blaster directly under his jaw, feeling the cold metal press hardly on his teeth. He started shuddering as he started to slowly count down. "It'll be over soon," he thought to himself.

"Three…"

"Two…"

"One…"

Fox sat on the floor, with his eyes closed, his muscles shaking as his tears were starting to make his face itch. Fox just sat there, shuddering and keeping the blaster still, breathing heavily and quickly. He sat there for a minute, which for him, took an eternity. Eventually, Fox threw away the blaster into the wall in front of him.

"Dammit," Fox sobbed out, wiping away the tears from his eyes. "I'm too weak to kill myself." Fox tried to get himself off the floor, but had trouble seeing in front of him. He then noticed that his mouth was very dry, and immediately knew that he needed some water, and quick. But as he got up to his knees, everything seemed to go dark for him – and the next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his stomach, with his face pressed against the hard wooden floor below him. Fox lay there for a moment, catching his breath as his stomach swirled and swayed. Eventually, he found enough energy to roll onto his back. "What the hell happened?" he groaned, looking at the night sky.

Fox then stared blankly at the ceiling, loathing the boring white paint, and started fuming from the inside out. The house had been made when he was just a few years old. He loved the house, but every year, he felt that its worth had been depreciating little by little each year, from a place of refuge to a house of horrors.

"I wonder what Dad would say if he saw me like this now," Fox said to himself. "Sobbing and weeping like this…" Fox then sat back up, filled with determination. "It's time to end this."

Fox went back down to the cellar and grabbed a bottle of rum saved from the Lylat Wars and quickly opened it up. He took one sniff at it and nearly puked at it, before dumping it all over the floor. "Probably worth just as more now," he grumbled. He then ran back outside, grabbed some gasoline and poured it into the empty bottle, and wrapped a small cloth around the top. After pouring some more gasoline on the cloth, Fox went back inside the kitchen and grabbed a lighter, and as he went back outside, he took one more careful look at the house.

"I never quite liked this place, anyway," Fox said in determination. With that, Fox lit up the cloth and threw the contraption at the house, hitting the wall and seeing the house instantly go up in flames. Fox backed away slowly, before turning around and walking on the side of the road, with only the flames of the house illuminating the way.

"It's over… it's done," he kept saying to himself. "Nobody will know that somebody ever lived there in the first place." As the house burnt into flames, a small smile came from Fox's face, for the first time in years, as far as he could remember.

"This'll be fun," Fox said to himself. "This will give me a chance to make a new life, to start all over again, free from all the crap going on out there. I'll be fun."


End file.
